The Truth is Hidden in Memory
by CastlePhoenix
Summary: Sequel to "You've Forgotten Who I Am", this story follows the sixth year of Harry Potter at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Having reached a new understanding the lives of Harry Potter and Severus Snape are about to be changed forever.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** This begins the sequel to "You've Forgotten Who I Am" - a story following the journey of Severus Snape and Harry Potter. When we left off, Harry had returned from his journey to the Department of Mysteries where Sirius Black was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange. Severus Snape continues in his role as spy, having successfully explained his actions that night to Lord Voldemort. This story marks the sixth year of Harry Potter at Hogwarts School of Witchraft and Wizardry...

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns Harry Potter

**The Truth is Hidden in Memory**

Chapter 1 _21st June, 1996_

It was a hot summer's day as the hordes of Hogwarts students crowded onto the Hogsmeade station. The Hogwarts Express stood gleaming in its grandeur as porters worked quickly to guide students aboard. The screech of indignant caged owls was drowned out by the voices of the students as they celebrated the end of the school year. The seventh year students were particularly exuberant as they revelled in their freedom, under the watchful eye of Hagrid. Several of the younger students – some of whom should have known better – had already fallen victim to the series of traditional pranks which were always played out before boarding the Hogwarts Express. The students laughed good-naturedly though and enthusiastically boarded the train, sporting their new hair colours.

Harry Potter stood towards the back of the crowd. He had already discarded his Hogwarts robes, in favour of a t-shirt and a new pair of jeans he had recently acquired. His trunk stood beside him, with Hedwig secured in her cage and perched precariously on top. Harry smirked slightly as he noticed Hedwig was studying Ron Weasley's hyperactive owl with much contempt. It seemed she found Pigwidgeon's behaviour offensive. As they reached the platform Harry led the way decisively towards the last carriage. Students parted before him like the Red Sea, and whispers followed him. Scowling slightly, Harry increased his pace until they reached the final compartment. Opening the door with more force than was strictly necessary he stood back to allow Hermione and Ron to precede him through.

They had just finished storing their trunks when the Hogwarts Express whistle blew and slowly the great train started forward, steam billowing behind it in great clumps as it picked up momentum. Harry leant forward, locking the compartment, before turning back to his expectant friends. To their credit they didn't immediately bombard him with questions but Harry could tell they were both extremely curious.

'I'm not going back to Privet Drive yet,' he began. 'Remus is meeting me at King's Cross and taking me back to Hogwarts for the next few weeks.'

'Why does Dumbledore want you to stay at Hogwarts?' Ron asked in confusion.

'He doesn't,' Harry answered simply. 'Severus does.'

Ron's eyebrows shot upwards in surprise at the use of Snape's first name, and even Hermione looked at him curiously.

'So you don't have to go back to your relatives?' Ron asked unsurely. 'Mum always said Dumbledore was adamant you spent part of the holidays with the Dursleys.'

'Yeah I do have to go back,' Harry admitted, 'but not for a few weeks. And Severus is coming with me. He knows my aunt,' Harry added quickly at the astonished looks Ron and Hermione were giving him.

Harry shifted uncomfortably as neither Ron nor Hermione said anything. He looked up in surprise though as he heard Ron start to laugh.

'Blimey Harry,' he began, trying to contain his laughter. 'That's brilliant! Can you imagine Snape with the Dursleys!'

At Ron's words a vivid picture of Aunt Petunia's face if she ever saw Severus standing on her doorstep in full Wizard robes caused Harry to dissolve into laughter as well. Hermione looked on disapprovingly as the two boys laughed hysterically but Harry could tell, by the slight twitch of her lips, that she too found the idea amusing. When Harry and Ron finally quieted down, Hermione spoke.

'That's wonderful news Harry,' she said. 'I wonder how he managed it?' she added thoughtfully.

'I don't know,' Harry said truthfully, recalling the conversation he had had with Severus that morning.

_Harry had woken to find himself in the private room of the Hospital Wing, on Severus' bed, with the man himself reading in the bedside chair. It looked as though Snape had already been up for several hours. Harry had sat up in surprise, only vaguely recalling falling asleep on the floor the previous evening. His movement had caught Snape's attention and he'd looked up from his book, before deliberately closing it and placing it on the side table. It was then Harry had caught sight of his packed trunk beside Snape. In that moment Harry had felt as though he'd been punched in the gut. It must have shown on his face because Snape's own gaze flickered to the trunk before returning to Harry's._

'_I spoke to Albus this morning,' Snape began slowly. 'He has informed your relatives that you will not be returning for the next few weeks. However, it is necessary,' he spoke the word with distaste, 'that you be seen catching the train.'_

'_So, I'm not really going back yet?' Harry had asked carefully._

'_No. The Headmaster has arranged for Lupin to meet you at Kings Cross and return you to Hogwarts.'_

'Still it's good news,' said Ron cheerfully, interrupting Harry's thoughts. 'Care for a game of chess Harry?'

'Sure,' Harry agreed easily.

XXXX

After several back to back games of straight defeats, Harry finally gave up. He was no match for Ron, and he doubted he ever would be. The last game had been particularly decisive with Ron winning in less than ten moves. It took Harry several minutes to coax his own pieces back into their box, all of which were very vocal in questioning his intelligence.

'I'm starving,' Ron complained, as his own pieces were happily packed away – all of them wearing smug looks.

'I told you eating all your sandwiches at once would be stupid,' said Hermione from behind her book.

Ron pulled a face, causing Harry to laugh. Hermione sent the pair a withering look before returning her attention to her book.

'You can have one of mine,' Harry offered, pulling out a slightly crushed turkey and cranberry sandwich the House Elves had given him.

'Thanks mate,' Ron said, starting on the sandwich eagerly.

Harry caught Hermione's disapproving look, and moved to sit next to her.

'So,' he said, sitting down close enough that Hermione had no other choice than to put her book down and speak to him. 'What are you reading?' Harry asked cheekily.

That earned him a rather enthusiastic smack over the head with the heavy tome she had been reading.

'You know very well Harry Potter that this is my Ancient Runes textbook,' she said sternly, although the effect was ruined as she struggled not to smile.

'Hermione,' Harry said in exasperation, 'you can't study on the way home from Hogwarts!'

Hermione raised an eyebrow at that, but Harry ploughed on.

'You can't,' he insisted stubbornly. 'Besides you owe me a game of Exploding Snap.'

'Fine, but don't blame me if you lose again.'

Harry smirked before summoning the pack of cards from his trunk.

XXXX

The trio spent a good hour playing Exploding Snap. Halfway through Ginny turned up and the game became even more competitive as Harry and Ginny teamed up against Ron and Hermione. By the end all of them had managed to singe their eyebrows off at some point. As the final deck exploded Harry expertly ducked, leaving Ginny to face the oncoming explosion. Reappearing Harry burst into laughter as he caught sight of the soot stained Ginny, her red hair smoking slightly and giving her the appearance that her head was on fire. Ginny didn't appreciate Harry having avoided the explosion and launched herself at him. Within minutes Ginny had extracted her revenge as Harry lay gasping on the ground, courtesy of a tickling hex, much to the amusement of Ron and Hermione.

'Alright, alright,' he gasped out. 'I'm sorry! I'm sorry!'

Ginny held the hex for a moment longer before lifting it and offering Harry a hand up with a wry smile. Ron sent him a sympathetic look, which gave Harry the impression he had been on the receiving end of Ginny's hexes before.

'I'm going to the bathroom,' Harry announced, still red faced. 'I'll see where the food trolley's at,' he added as he stepped out of the compartment.

Harry was halfway down the carriage when he noticed Cho Chang come out of a compartment a few metres ahead of him. Harry hadn't spoken to her since their disastrous date. He wasn't sure what was going on between them anymore but a part of him regretted how badly it had ended between them. Summoning his Gryffindor courage he called out to her.

'Cho!' he called, hurrying to catch up with her. 'Cho, wait!'

She turned around, stopping in surprise as she realised who it was.

'Can I talk to you for a moment?' Harry asked quickly before he lost his nerve.

Cho shrugged, and Harry took that as a yes. Looking around he spotted an empty compartment. Stepping in he waited for Cho to join him. She followed him reluctantly, but Harry noticed she was blushing slightly. The sight gave him some hope, and he felt his stomach perform a feeble flip in anticipation. Shutting the door he turned to face her.

'I wanted to apologise for Valentine's Day,' he began hastily, clenching his sweating palms behind his back. 'I was a right prat. I didn't mean to make you think I liked Hermione...I mean I _do_ like her, but only as a friend. She's like my sister really...' he realised he was rambling and stopped himself.

'Anyway, I just wanted you to know I'm sorry,' he said sincerely, when Cho still hadn't spoken.

'I'm sorry too Harry,' Cho said quietly.

She wasn't looking at Harry; instead she was studying the carpet. Harry shifted uncomfortably as the silence dragged on.

'I was sorry to hear about your aunt,' Cho finally offered, lifting her gaze.

Harry was shocked to see she was close to tears.

'Are you alright?' he said hastily, reaching out a hand to her shoulder.

'You were gone for so long Harry,' Cho began, her eyes boring into Harry's, desperate for him to understand her. 'I was so angry after our date. It took me ages to realise how stupid I was being, and how selfish. I can't believe I thought you'd find it easy to talk about Cedric with me!'

A few of the tears managed to escape, falling silently down her cheek. Without really thinking about it Harry pulled her into a hug, letting her rest her head against his chest as he breathed in her woody scent. They stood like that for a few minutes, Harry gently rubbing her back as her tears continued.

'By the time I was ready to talk to you,' Cho finally continued, stepping out of Harry's embrace, 'you'd left.'

Harry wasn't sure what to say so he stood in silence as Cho hastily rubbed the last of the tears from her face.

'Michael Corner asked me out a few weeks ago,' she said quietly. 'I said yes.'

'Oh.'

It was all he could think of saying. Vaguely he realised his stomach had stopped flipping. All he felt now was a sense of regret, as though he'd let something slip through his fingers and had only now just realised.

'You're a great person Harry,' Cho continued, 'but you deserve someone better than me. We're not right for each other. We've too much history.'

Harry nodded numbly, hardly taking in what she was saying. Cho studied him for a moment before she seemed to come to a decision. Stepping forward she stood on tiptoes, capturing Harry's lips with her own briefly. Before Harry could even register the fact that Cho had kissed him, her lips had left his and she was stepping back.

'Bye Harry, have a good summer,' she said as she stepped quietly out of the compartment.

Harry remained where he was for another five minutes, playing the conversation he'd just had with Cho over and over in his mind. Surprisingly he realised he wasn't angry that they'd broken up. Instead he felt relieved. It had ended at the best possible time with the best possible outcome. Cho was right, they weren't really right for each other. Still he couldn't help but feel somewhat sad that he'd just been dumped. He guessed that was just a normal response from his self-esteem though. Shaking himself out of his thoughts he left the compartment for the bathroom.

On the way back to his own compartment he was stopped by the sudden appearance of Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, who seemed to have been waiting in ambush.

'You're dead Potter,' Malfoy snarled, closing the distance between them.

Out of the corner of his eye Harry caught sight of Ernie Macmillan, Hannah Abbott, Susan Bones, Justin Finch-Fletchley, Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot all scrambling for their wands. Harry wondered how Malfoy had ever made it into Slytherin when he clearly lacked the cunning the house was famed for. Staging an ambush outside a compartment full of DA members was not one of Malfoy's more brilliant plans. Smirking slightly, Harry faced off against Malfoy.

'Really?' he asked. 'I'm not the one who's outnumbered here.'

'What are you –' Malfoy began, but before he could finish the compartment door burst open and the DA members spilled out into the corridor.

With great satisfaction Harry hit Malfoy with _Rictusempra!_ before stepping back and watching with pride as his DA members hit Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle with a range of hexes – all of which Harry had taught them. By the time the DA was finished with them, Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle resembled nothing more than giant slugs.

'The nerve of him!' Ernie exclaimed breathlessly from beside Harry.

Terry Boot suggested putting the unfortunate Slytherin students into the loft of an abandoned compartment. It took Harry and his friends twenty minutes to manoeuvre Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle, after which Harry bid the DA members farewell before returning to his own compartment.

'What took you so long?' Ron asked as Harry stepped back into their compartment. 'Is the food trolley on its way?' he asked, sticking his head out the door hopefully before closing it when it was obvious the trolley had not reached their carriage yet.

'Sorry, didn't see it,' Harry said as he sat down next to Ginny. 'Malfoy held me up,' he added as Hermione looked up from her book.

'Malfoy!' Ron exclaimed. 'What did that git want?'

'Something about his father,' Harry replied easily. 'He didn't get to finish. The idiot attacked me in front of Ernie and his friends. Anyway, I don't think his mum will be too happy when she sees him.'

'So what else were you doing?' Hermione asked curiously, as she smiled appreciatively at Harry's story.

'Oh I ran into Cho,' he said embarrassedly.

Hermione raised her eyebrow at that but it was Ron who spoke.

'What's – er – going on with you two?' he asked quietly.

'That's what we were – um – talking about,' Harry admitted. 'She...well...I guess she just broke up with me.'

'Oh Harry, I'm so sorry!' exclaimed Hermione.

'Yeah, tough luck mate,' Ron said from beside him, clapping him on the back.

'Did she say why?' Ginny asked coolly from her corner.

Harry jumped; he had forgotten she was in the compartment. For some reason he felt himself blush at the thought that Ginny had heard him talking about Cho, but he shook the thought from his mind before it could take root.

'Ah, yeah,' he began hesitantly after an awkward pause, 'yeah she did. She's going out with Michael Corner now.'

Ginny's brown eyes were boring into his own and Harry found he couldn't look away, but his answer seemed to have satisfied her and she turned back to her magazine, which he recognised as The Quibbler.

'Corner?' muttered Ron before whipping round to stare at Ginny. 'Weren't you going out with him?' he asked accusingly.

'Yes,' Ginny replied calmly, not looking up. 'Obviously I'm not anymore. He got rather sulky when Gryffindor beat Ravenclaw. Bit of a sore loser really, so I dumped him and he ran off to comfort Cho instead.'

Ginny's pronouncement seemed to cheer Ron greatly.

'Always thought he was a bit of an idiot,' he said turning back to Harry. 'Good for you Ginny. Hopefully you'll choose someone better next time.'

Harry missed the look Ron shot him, distracted by the sound of the approaching food trolley.

'Well,' said Ginny packing up her magazine in anticipation of the trolley's arrival, 'I've chosen Dean Thomas, would you say he's better?'

'WHAT?' roared Ron, standing up to face Ginny.

Ginny simply ignored him, raising her eyebrow scathingly as though tempting him to continue shouting. Ron seemed to realise he'd made a mistake and sat down quickly.

'Dean,' he muttered to Harry. 'Can you believe her? I mean one of _our _roommates. And Thomas – if I get my hands on him – '

'I think you're overreacting just a little bit Ronald,' Hermione cut in derisively.

'What?' he asked, turning angrily towards Hermione. 'She's _my_ sister – '

'And I'm quite capable of making my own choices thank you very much Ron,' Ginny said as she stood to get some coins from her trunk. 'Now if you'll excuse me, the trolleys here.'

Harry couldn't help but think that the trolley had arrived just in time to prevent an all out sibling war. It appeared though that Ron's hunger was more important than Ginny's boyfriends, thankfully. Harry purchased a large stack of Cauldron Cakes before distracting Ron with talk of the League results. The rest of the journey passed quickly, and before Harry knew it they were being ushered through the barrier onto Kings Cross Station.

The Weasley family stood waiting to receive them. Mr and Mrs Weasley were both dressed in their finest Muggle clothing, which Harry noted was almost passable. Fred and George stood with them – wearing matching jackets made from some lurid green material – whilst Lupin stood politely beside them. Harry smiled brightly as Mrs Weasley raced forward to embrace Ron and Ginny.

'Oh Harry,' Mrs Weasley said as she engulfed him in a tight embrace. 'How are you dear?' she asked, pulling back so that she could get a proper look at him.

Harry realised with a shock that he now stood a head taller than her.

'I'm alright,' he replied honestly, smiling tightly as he watched Fred and George showing off their jackets to Ron.

Mrs Weasley looked doubtful but she stepped aside to greet Hermione, allowing Remus to approach him.

'Hello Harry,' he said warmly, offering his hand for Harry to shake.

'Remus,' Harry greeted fondly, a genuine smile gracing his lips.

'You've grown,' Lupin commented as he took stock of Harry. 'You're as tall as me now.'

_Not as tall as Sirius though_, Harry caught himself thinking.

'Yeah,' he replied.

Lupin seemed to sense his discomfit.

'Shall we head off then?' he asked.

Harry nodded and moved to farewell Hermione and the Weasleys.

'I'm sure we'll see you before the end of the holidays Harry,' Mrs Weasley stated, shooting an oddly furtive look at Lupin before embracing Harry once again.

'I'll write to you when I get a chance,' he said to Ron and Hermione.

'You'll have to tell us how it goes Harry,' Ron said eagerly, and Harry knew he was talking about Snape meeting the Dursleys.

'How what goes Ronald?' Mrs Weasley asked.

'Ah, nothing Mum,' Ron said hurriedly, dragging his mother back towards the twins.

'Bye Harry!' Hermione said, giving him a quick hug. 'Bye Professor Lupin,' she added before joining her parents who were talking animatedly with Mr Weasley.

Remus moved to stand beside Harry, picking his trunk up with ease before moving towards the exit. Harry followed with Hedwig clutched tightly by his side. Out on the street Remus made his way towards a back alley.

'Professor Dumbledore suggested you might like to spend some time sight-seeing in London Harry,' Remus said quietly as Harry joined him in the alley. 'It's up to you though,' he added.

Harry got the impression Lupin was rather unsure of Harry's answer.

'That'd be brilliant,' Harry said without hesitation.

'Excellent,' Lupin replied happily. 'I'll just send these back to Hogwarts then.'

'Trixty!' he called clearly.

Instantly a small House Elf appeared, the Hogwarts crest sewn into her pillowcase.

'Please return these to Gryffindor Tower,' Remus requested politely.

The Elf nodded before vanishing, along with Harry's trunk and Hedwig.

'Alright Harry, let's go.'

XXXX

It was dark as Harry and Remus made their way up from the Hogwarts gates. Remus had taken Harry to Trafalgar Square, Whitehall and Buckingham Palace before stopping for dinner in a local pub. The evening had been a whirlwind of activity and it wasn't until he was striding up towards the school that Harry finally remembered that he'd needed to speak to Remus. Since regaining the memory of the incident in the Pensieve, Harry had been desperate to confirm what he had seen. He didn't doubt that his father had indeed bullied Severus but he had to believe that there was more to his father's character. Nor could he understand his mother's apparent aversion towards James Potter.

'Something on your mind Harry?' Remus asked quietly from beside him.

Harry stopped, glancing sideways. The moon was waxing, casting enough light for Harry to see the older man. He'd stopped and was looking at Harry expectantly but even in the half light Harry could tell he wore a careworn expression.

'I...it's uh...' Harry broke off, unsure of how to begin.

He looked up at the stars his eyes automatically travelling towards the brightest star. Sirius.

'Did Sirius tell you that Professor Snape was teaching me Occlumency?' he asked suddenly, looking back down at Remus.

The man seemed surprised by his question, although he hid it well.

'Yes, he mentioned it once or twice,' Remus answered with a rueful smile.

'When we had lessons,' Harry continued, once more shifting his eyes towards the stars, 'he would always put aside memories in a Pensieve before the lesson began. He was taking precautions, in case I should ever manage to enter _his_ mind by mistake.'

Harry paused, looking over towards Remus who was listening intently albeit with a slight frown of confusion.

'The lessons were a disaster,' Harry said frankly. 'I didn't want to learn from him. Every lesson he'd tell me to clear my mind before sleep. But I never did.'

Harry let out a sigh, not for the first time regretting his reluctance to learn Occlumency properly.

'Just before the Easter break, I'd arrived for a lesson when Malfoy barged into Severus' office.'

The name slipped easily from Harry's lips without thought causing Remus to stiffen in surprise. Harry didn't notice, so intently was he studying the sky as he continued.

'They'd found one of his Slytherin students in a toilet – Fred and George had pushed him into a Vanishing Cabinet – so he left to help Madam Pomfrey. He was in such a hurry though that he didn't wait to see if I'd left his office.'

Harry looked sheepishly back towards Remus who was studying him with a curious expression.

'I take it you looked in the Pensieve?' Remus asked knowingly, after a moment's pause.

'Yes,' Harry breathed out, colouring in shame. 'I was so angry with everyone; frustrated that I wasn't being told anything. The Pensieve was just sitting there...I told myself Snape was hiding Order information from me...that I'd get some answers by looking in the Pensieve. So I looked,' he trailed off.

Silence stretched between the pair. The moon grew brighter as it rose higher, bathing the grounds in moonlight.

'It wasn't Order information,' Harry said morosely, his voice cracking slightly as he broke the silence. 'It was a memory of your fifth year,' he continued, looking directly at Remus. 'Of your Defence Against the Dark Arts OWL.'

Harry knew immediately that Remus knew exactly what event he was talking about. He shifted uneasily beneath Harry's gaze, turning instead to look towards the beech tree beside the lake.

'My father attacked him because Sirius said he was bored,' Harry continued resolutely. 'My mother asked him why...and he answered that it was because...,' he broke off staring at Remus beseechingly before finishing quietly, 'because he existed.'

Remus turned on the spot, running his hands through his hair before abruptly sitting down on the lawn, gesturing for Harry to join him.

'Your father,' the man began quietly, 'was a good man Harry. Never doubt that for an instance.'

'But –'

'That was the fifteen year old James you saw Harry,' Lupin continued. 'We were all stupid at that age. We never once stopped to think.'

'I'm fifteen though,' Harry cut in angrily. 'What they did wasn't funny – it wasn't a joke! Snape used to tell me that my father was an arrogant, bullying rule-breaker. I used to think he was lying – that he simply hated my father for some reason. But he wasn't lying! He was the only person who ever told it how it was!'

Lupin sat calmly beside him, waiting for him to finish.

'What I regret most from my school days Harry,' Remus said quietly into the silence, 'is that I never once stopped James or Sirius. I was so glad to have friends that I never once questioned them. I knew it was wrong though and sometimes I'd think I'd have the courage to stand up and stop them – but I never quite could.'

'Did they ever stop?' Harry asked helplessly.

'There was too much bad blood between Severus and James, Harry,' Lupin replied honestly. 'James couldn't stand the Dark Arts and Severus...well Severus knew more about the Dark Arts than any first year rightly should. You have to understand that both James and Sirius were intelligent and incredibly popular in school Harry. James alone was one of the most talented Quidditch players of our time. I think Severus envied the attention James received.'

'That's no reason to curse him!' Harry protested.

'You're right Harry,' Lupin replied calmly, 'though James only bested Severus when it was two or more against him – much to our displeasure. Severus was much too able a dueller to allow James to best him.'

The thought that Severus had fought back gave Harry some comfort. Although he wished that his father had taken the high road and left Severus alone. Regardless of Snape's obsession with the Dark Arts he hadn't deserved to be strung up before the whole school by James Potter.

'In the end,' Remus continued, 'James grew up. He stopped the mindless hexing and he learned a thing or two about humility. Mainly from your mother, Lily,' Remus added with a wistful smile.

Harry smiled at that. He'd known Lily would never have stood for bullying of any kind.

'In the memory,' Harry began hesitantly, 'she seemed to hate him?'

'Ah yes,' Remus said, laughing slightly. 'When we first arrived at Hogwarts Lily couldn't stand James. He was far too interested in showing off his Quidditch talent and sauntering around Hogwarts like he owned the place. She was friends with Severus at the time and well...Severus was quite happy to study for hours on end with her. He was much more interested in books than James ever was and of course Lily loved to study. Eventually though they drifted apart. Severus moved on to his Slytherin friends and in the end they stopped talking altogether.'

Remus broke off, realising he'd drifted off topic. Although Harry seemed just as interested in his mother's friendship with Severus as he had been in hearing about James, Remus noted with surprise.

'Anyway,' Remus began again, 'Lily and James started dating in seventh year. By that stage James had deflated his ego a bit, grown up and become much more sensible. He used to have this habit of asking Lily out every chance he got. He stopped that at the end of fifth year and I think that's when Lily and he became proper friends. Of course he asked her out once more at the start of seventh year, and well...,' Remus finished with a slight smirk, pulling Harry into a bear hug 'the rest is history.'

Harry laughed as Remus ruffled his hair, leaning back as the man released his grip but kept his arm thrown lightly around Harry's shoulder.

'James was so proud the day you were born,' Remus said softly, giving Harry's shoulder a slight squeeze. 'I remember the look on his face when he came out of the room to tell us all. He looked completely shell-shocked but he was beaming like an absolute idiot. Sirius was beside him the moment he came out, demanding to know whether he had a godson or goddaughter. James just looked at him for a moment before he answered. _I have a son!_ _A beautiful son – Harry James Potter_. Well as you can imagine Sirius was beyond excited, we all were. We were yelling like idiots and Sirius transformed straight into Padfoot without thinking. Of course that was about the time we got kicked out of St Mungo's, much to Lily's amusement.'

Remus stopped speaking and Harry realised with embarrassment that his eyes were watery. He rubbed at them surreptitiously as the warm feeling Remus' words had created spread throughout him. No one had ever told him about his birth before.

He chuckled slightly at the thought of Sirius turning into Padfoot in the middle of a hospital. As he laughed the unease he had been feeling about his father and Sirius faded away. They had been stupid at school but they'd grown up and become better people. He still felt sorry for Severus but he suspected most of James and Severus animosity had revolved around Lily – something he was sure Remus didn't seem to realise. Harry looked towards the castle at the thought of Severus. The man had been right that talking to Remus about James Potter would help.

'Well Harry,' Remus said, cutting into his thoughts, 'I best get you back to the castle.'

Harry nodded and the pair stood quickly. Remus glanced uneasily between a battered pocket watch and the distant lights. Stowing his watch in an inner pocket he set a brisk pace as the pair continued towards the school. A thought seemed to come to Remus and he stopped suddenly, looking towards Harry in concern.

'How did Snape react when he found you'd seen that memory?'

'Err,' Harry began, unsure of how much he could say. 'He wasn't happy.'

He left it at that but he could tell Remus knew he was hiding something.

XXXX

Hogwarts was eerily quiet without students. A restful silence encompassed the castle, broken only by the sound of pacing footsteps echoing around the Entrance Hall. Severus Snape was not a patient man. His black robes billowed ominously as he turned on the spot and retraced his path across the Entrance Hall. His head snapped up at the sudden sound of the castle doors opening. Striding forward he crossed the Hall to find himself face to face with Remus Lupin and behind him, Harry Potter. Severus felt himself relax slightly at the sight of Harry but it did not stop him from accosting Lupin.

'What took you so long, wolf?' he snarled.

Severus had been pacing in the Entrance Hall for the last half hour after Dumbledore had finally seen fit to inform him that Harry wasn't missing after all, rather Albus himself had suggested that Remus take Harry to dinner.

Remus took a step back in surprise at Severus' tone. Snape did not seem to realise that his evident relief at seeing Harry unharmed had coloured his tone.

'My apologies Severus,' Lupin answered politely. 'I was not aware that you were waiting for Harry. Albus asked only that I return him before curfew.'

Severus scowled, but checked himself rapidly at Lupin's undisguised tone of curiosity.

'Unlike you Lupin,' Severus began scathingly, 'I cannot afford to waste my time aimlessly wandering around London with Potter. Headmaster Dumbledore has seen fit to assign me as Potter's babysitter whilst he remains here and I do not appreciate being kept waiting. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have _work_ to do.'

Scowling darkly Snape turned away from the confused werewolf, moving towards the dungeons. Reaching the stairs he stopped to wait for Harry. He was still by the castle doors and seemed to be attempting to reassure Lupin, Snape noted with relief. It would be unwise for Lupin to suspect that something had changed between Harry and himself.

'Potter,' he called impatiently.

Harry broke off at his name and Snape watched as the boy hugged the wolf goodbye. It was a simple gesture of affection but for some reason the sight of it cut at Severus like a knife to the heart. Angry and confused by his feelings of jealousy Snape turned smartly on the spot and not waiting to see if Harry followed, fled to the refuge of his private rooms.

XXXX

**A/N:** Well, apologies for the delay in finally posting this! It had been mostly finished for a while but I can only blame Mass Effect 3 (anyone who has played this will understand...) and the fact that I was away on holidays for a week without any internet. Thanks to everyone who has continued to review "You've Forgotten Who I Am". I've also started a second story: "Remember Who You Are". This isn't related to this story arc but you may find it interesting if you enjoyed "You've Forgotten Who I Am". This chapter was very much an introduction but I can assure you that there's a lot coming up (I'm pretty excited!). Feel free to review :) Until next time!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2 _21st - 23rd June, 1996_

'Hey! Wait up!'

Severus slowed his pace marginally, although he did not turn as he heard Harry jog to catch him up. Wordlessly Harry matched his pace to Severus' and the two continued along the corridor in silence. Reaching his office Snape unlocked the door and stood back to allow Harry to enter. Harry sent him a sidelong glance, which Snape ignored, before entering. Snape followed Harry through, closing the door behind him with a snap. Harry raised his eyebrow at the unnecessary force but Snape simply scowled before yanking the door to his private quarters open and stalking through to his living room. Harry followed behind him somewhat more sedately, plonking himself on the couch as he waited for Snape to reappear from his room.

Severus shrugged out of his teaching robes, running his hand tiredly through his hair as he did so. It needed a wash, he noted sourly. Leaving his room he made his way back into the living room. Although it was summer the dungeons tended to remain cool year round so Snape knelt by the hearth and quickly started a fire. He gave the fire a good stoke before seating himself in his armchair, scowling darkly. He was angry at himself for the way he had reacted to Lupin. He knew very well that Harry and Lupin were quite close but he was baffled to find that it bothered him.

'Are you angry with me?'

Harry's voice cut in, startling Severus from his thoughts. He looked up to find Harry studying him frankly, frowning slightly at Severus' silence.

'No,' he answered.

He let out an exasperated sigh, rubbing his face in weariness, at the boy's unconvinced expression.

'No Harry,' he repeated emphatically. 'I'm not angry with you. I'm just tired. It's been a trying day.'

Harry relaxed at his admission, settling further into Severus' couch.

'Did something happen?' Harry asked hesitantly after a moment's silence.

'It's nothing Harry,' Severus said dismissively. _Just Albus being his usual infuriating self_, he thought to himself, remembering his discussion with the Headmaster.

XXXX

_Severus had gone to see Albus early, determined to uphold the promise he had made to Harry the previous evening. As he made his way up to the seventh floor office he rehearsed his reasoning, committed to ensuring Harry would remain with him for the summer. He was too used to dealing with Albus when he held all the cards. This time he was sure it would be _he_ who surprised the Headmaster..._

_But as always Albus managed to disarm him the moment he stepped through the door._

'_Good morning Severus, I take it you are here to discuss the option of becoming Harry's guardian?' _

_Albus did not look up from his desk where a plethora of parchment was scattered before him. He held a quill loosely in his hand and was annotating various pages with gusto. For a moment Severus' surprise was evident but he hid it quickly, closing the office door behind him before he crossed to take the seat opposite Albus. It was one he seemed to occupy frequently. _

_He waited patiently for Albus to finish, using the time to reassess his priorities. Albus' statement had caught him short. Severus had not considered the possibility of becoming Harry's legal guardian. He had been quite sure that Albus' blood wards meant the Dursleys had to remain Harry's guardians. Admittedly he was not opposed to the idea but it was not something he had consciously considered. The idea unleashed a sudden tide of doubts and he caught himself wondering if it would be acceptable for him to even consider such a possibility. Would Harry even want Severus Snape as his guardian?_

'_You underestimate yourself Severus,' Albus said quietly, 'you would be an excellent guardian for Harry.'_

_Severus looked up to find that Albus had stopped writing and was instead studying his Potions Master with a knowing look, his chin resting on his folded hands. Severus scowled darkly at the twinkling blue eyes._

'_Yes, I'm sure I'd make an excellent role model for the boy,' he sneered sardonically. 'Why you only have to reflect on the choices I've made in my life to realise what a terrible guardian I would be.'_

'_On the contrary Severus,' Dumbledore replied seriously. 'You _chose_ to inform me of the prophecy. You _chose_ to turn your back on Voldemort and his Death Eaters and you _chose _to protect Lily Potter's son. Let me remind you that it was _you_ Severus who came to me about Harry. I am quite confident that you have Harry Potter's best interests at heart.'_

'_Perhaps I should remind you Albus that I _chose _to relay the prophecy to the Dark Lord,' Severus replied icily. 'I _chose_ to become a Death Eater, knowing full well what it entailed. I have been making mistakes my whole life,' he finished quietly._

'_It is not a crime to make a mistake, Severus,' Dumbledore said softly, pausing for a moment before continuing._

'_You, like all of us, have made mistakes. The fact that you can admit to your mistakes though makes you a far greater man than I.'_

_Dumbledore smiled slightly as he caught sight of Severus' sceptical expression._

'_Let me ask you something Severus,' he said benevolently. 'When it came down to it, when you realised that you had made a mistake, was it a hard decision for you to admit that you were wrong? Was it a hard decision for you to come to me?'_

'_No,' Severus answered immediately. It had not been a hard decision at all, he thought to himself. Not once he'd realised what he'd done...who he had endangered._

'_I thought not,' Dumbledore said astutely. 'That is what makes you a remarkable man Severus. You have never taken the easy route. No matter the cost to yourself you have always admitted your mistakes and you have _always_ taken the high road. It is for this reason I have no qualms at all in making you Harry's guardian.'_

_Severus shifted uneasily in the sudden silence following Albus' announcement. It was uncomfortable for him to hear the Headmaster speak so candidly about his life. He nodded stiffly though, letting Albus know he had understood his reasoning – even if he didn't quite agree with Dumbledore's assessment of his character._

_The remainder of the meeting had been spent discussing the logistics of transferring Harry's guardianship to Severus. Albus had offered to discuss the arrangements with Harry but Severus had been adamant that he would discuss the option with Harry first before he signed anything. Given his position as a Death Eater, the guardianship would be kept strictly between Albus, Severus, Harry and the Dursleys. Albus had suggested that Severus sign the papers with the Dursleys when he took Harry back to Privet Drive. Legally the change in guardianship would not be recognised until Severus' role in the war was complete. However, the paperwork would be signed and worded specifically for Severus' claim to take immediate effect. It was necessary for Privet Drive to remain Harry's home but the Dursleys would no longer have a say in Harry's life._

_By the time they had finished discussing the finer points of the arrangement it was approaching mid-morning and Severus had returned to the Hospital Wing to inform Harry that he would need to catch the Hogwarts Express. As he'd been walking back to the Hospital Wing, he had found it hard to keep from smirking at the numerous students who were staring unabashedly at his reappearance. Poppy had informed him earlier in the week that she had heard several first years discussing wild rumours pertaining to his supposed demise. The stories had amused Snape to no end and he met many an inquisitive stare with bored indifference._

_The rest of the day had involved finalising grades and cataloguing his store cupboard. His stay in the Hospital Wing had put him behind schedule and he had been more than a little frustrated when he had finally made his way up to the Great Hall for dinner. Harry's obvious absence had had him searching the castle before Albus had finally sought him out to inform him that he had in fact given Remus permission to take Harry to dinner and not to expect Harry back before nine. The knowing twinkle in the Headmaster's eyes had been the icing on the cake and Severus had sworn rather viciously at the man, which seemed to only amuse Albus further. He had simply chuckled before wishing Severus 'good night' and leaving him to pace furiously across the Entrance Hall._

XXXX

Severus shook himself from his thoughts as he realised Harry was studying him with some concern, undoubtedly due to his prolonged silence.

'I trust the train ride was enjoyable?' he asked awkwardly, attempting to correct his lapse in concentration.

'Oh – uh yeah,' Harry replied unsurely, seemingly surprised by his question.

Severus frowned slightly at Harry's abashed expression.

'Did something happen?' he asked seriously, unconsciously leaning forward.

'No...not really,' Harry replied uncomfortably.

Snape raised an eyebrow, which seemed to prompt the teenager to answer properly.

'It's nothing,' Harry began quickly, not looking at Severus as he ran a hand through his hair in nervousness. 'Cho just dumped me is all.'

Severus had certainly not been expecting that answer and he knew Harry could tell. He had not thought that Harry would ever discuss such personal matters so easily with him.

'Sorry,' the boy said hurriedly. 'I didn't...I shouldn't have...I know...'

He trailed off incoherently, looking rather sheepish, but Severus got the gist of it.

'You are more than welcome to discuss anything that bothers you, with me Harry. Although I must admit I have very little experience with dating in general,' he finished dryly.

His serious tone seemed to confuse the boy for a moment, until he noticed the amusement in Snape's eyes. Snape smirked openly as he watched Harry relax.

'I spoke to Remus,' Harry said after a moment's pause, successfully attempting to change the subject. 'You were right, it helped.'

Snape inclined his head. So the wolf had at least been somewhat helpful, he thought to himself.

Harry watched as Snape seemed to lose himself once more in thought. He felt like an idiot for telling Severus about Cho, but to Harry's surprise Severus hadn't seemed to mind at all. Which Harry found odd because he'd realised it was something he would have told Sirius about. He yawned deeply as he lost himself in his thoughts.

'I think it is time you went to bed Harry,' Snape said smugly, startling Harry.

He had thought Snape was lost in thought, but it seemed the man had seen him yawn and was now watching him with some amusement.

'The rest of the staff will remain at Hogwarts until Sunday,' Snape continued. 'As such, Albus has asked that you sleep in the Gryffindor dormitories for the moment.'

'Okay,' Harry agreed tiredly.

'Your trunk should already have been returned,' Snape said standing and reaching for a pot above the fireplace. Withdrawing a handful of green powder he threw it into the fireplace. 'If you have any trouble, do not hesitate to return here.'

Harry nodded gratefully and stepped into the cool green flames.

'Good night, Severus,' he said. '_Gryffindor Common Room!'_ he called clearly and within seconds he had disappeared from Snape's fireplace.

Severus remained by the fire a moment longer.

'Good night, Harry.'

XXXX

It was early morning, the sun just beginning to creep across the floor as Severus knelt below the dais. The Dark Lord was seated above him, seemingly content to make Snape wait. Just as his legs were beginning to cramp Voldemort spoke.

'Rise Severus,' he commanded.

Severus stood; watching as the Dark Lord also rose and gestured for Severus to follow him. Dutifully Severus followed two steps behind as the Dark Lord led the way to a side room. Inside was an ornate table, surrounded by several lavish chairs. The Dark Lord seated himself at the head of the table and indicated the chair to his right for Severus. With a wave of his wand, a number of parchments appeared on the table. Despite his curiosity, Snape refrained from looking.

'Well Severus,' the Dark Lord began. 'What orders from Dumbledore?'

'My Lord,' Snape began dutifully. 'The Headmaster has ordered me to remain at the castle for the summer.'

'Intriguing,' Voldemort said silkily. 'Has he told you why?'

'Yes, My Lord,' Snape replied carefully, steeling himself for what was to come. 'Forgive me for not telling you sooner, My Lord.' There was the barest pause before he plunged onwards.

'Harry Potter remains at Hogwarts and shall do so for the next few weeks until he returns to his relatives. The Headmaster has ordered me to watch over the boy.'

'Severus, you have done well indeed,' the Dark Lord smirked. 'The old fool truly does trust you.'

Severus hid his surprise as he watched the Dark Lord select several pieces of parchment from a pile. This was not the reaction he had expected.

'My Lord...' he began hesitantly. 'What of Harry Potter?' Voldemort looked up sharply at the name, but Snape continued on. 'What do you wish for me to do?'

'As I told you before Severus,' Voldemort began menacingly, the first sign of anger creeping into his gaze, 'you are to do whatever Dumbledore wishes of you. Harry Potter is not your concern. Let him stay at Hogwarts, it is no matter. I will deal with him eventually. All that should concern you is remaining as close to Albus Dumbledore as possible. He must not doubt you Severus.'

A feeling of unease spread through Snape at Voldemort's words. It was the first time he had ever witnessed the Dark Lord dismiss Harry Potter. He watched silently as the Dark Lord studied more parchments. Surreptitiously Snape studied them. They looked to be building plans of some kind but he did not recognise the building from his current angle.

'It is unfortunate that you shall be remaining at Hogwarts Severus,' Voldemort said suddenly. 'There are several operations that will come into effect in the next few weeks which would have benefited from your expertise. I had hoped you would offer your house into my service, as a safe house, given that it is undoubtedly unplottable and well protected.'

Severus' gut clenched. He had deliberately kept the location of Spinner's End hidden. None of his fellow Death Eaters were aware of its location which was something he did not wish to change. He had often claimed that the house was unworthy of the Dark Lord. Additionally, he was quite sure none of the Pureblood fanatics would enjoy living in a Muggle house. Still he had no choice but to offer the house now.

'My Lord –'

'Keep your filthy Muggle abode Severus,' Voldemort cut in. 'You are more use to me at Hogwarts. It is unfortunate though, as I had wished for Wormtail to reside with you.'

Voldemort studied him with a sadistic grin and Severus could tell he'd seen the look of disgust and undisguised hatred that had crossed his face at the thought of sharing his home with Peter Pettigrew.

'Now now Severus,' Voldemort chastised, 'I wished only for you to keep an eye on our slippery friend.'

The gleam in Voldemort's eye said otherwise and Severus knew instinctively that the Dark Lord had planned to have Wormtail spy upon him.

'Of course My Lord,' he replied dutifully.

Voldemort watched him for a moment longer before vanishing the parchments on the table.

'Tell me Severus,' the Dark Lord began, 'what is Harry Potter's greatest asset?'

'My Lord,' Severus protested, 'he is a mediocre wizard, an incompetent. He has no assets.'

It was the obligatory response, but Severus felt no pleasure in supplying it. A cruel laugh issued from Voldemort at Severus' statement.

'You are blind Severus,' he hissed. 'Harry Potter's greatest asset is Dumbledore.'

Snape struggled to hide his horror as realisation dawned over him. An icy feeling suffused him and for a moment he forgot how to breathe. With effort he forced the thoughts away, occluding his mind more strongly as he asked the necessary question.

'Dumbledore, My Lord?'

'Your feigned ignorance does you no favours Severus,' Voldemort sneered. 'You know very well that Harry Potter is simply Dumbledore's puppet and it is past time those strings were cut.'

'You have a plan then My Lord?'

A horrible grin spread across the Dark Lord's face and Severus knew he wasn't going to like the answer.

XXXX

Severus' steps faltered as he approached the gargoyle statue. He was sweating, his heart beating too fast and his breathing ragged. His vision dimmed alarmingly and he knew immediately that he needed to sit down before he collapsed. Dimly he registered that his body was in shock, as his legs gave way beneath him. At the last minute he blindly reached out for the corridor wall, managing to turn his undignified fall into a controlled slump. The feel of the cool stone against his back was comforting and within minutes he had his breathing back under control. His heart rate slowed and he shivered slightly – a consequence of his sweating.

He remained where he was, idly watching the sunlight creep across the floor as midday approached. Sprawled as he was against the corridor wall, he was eternally grateful that the school year was over. It was rare for him to lose control but the task the Dark Lord had given him...it was unthinkable. Still it would be unbearable if any of the staff were to unwittingly find him in such a state. With some effort Severus pulled himself back up, fastidiously fixing his awry robes. Standing before the gargoyle he forced himself to lock away his tumultuous thoughts: _shock, horror, dismay, panic_. He pushed all of them away and with great difficulty called forth his blank mask. It would not do for Albus to see him so unnerved. With one final steadying breath he spoke the password and stepped onto the moving staircase.

Albus looked up at the sharp knock. Only one person knocked like that, he thought amusedly.

'Enter,' he called.

As expected Severus stepped into his office. Albus studied him pensively for a moment. Severus had informed him in the early hours of the morning that he had been summoned. It had obviously been a long meeting though as he had been expecting Severus to report in several hours ago. As always he cast a critical gaze over Severus. It was not unlike the man to forgo treatment of injuries in favour of debriefing. Severus moved to seat himself, watched closely by Albus. He was relieved to note Severus moved easily and appeared to be in no apparent pain. Despite Severus' belief to the contrary, the Headmaster had a knack for knowing when his spy had been seriously injured. Still Albus frowned slightly as he took in Severus' pallor, the light sheen on his forehead evidence of some mishap. He did not question Severus immediately though, undoubtedly the cause would be uncovered in due time.

'Well Severus, what news?' he asked calmly, leaning forward to study Severus over his half moon glasses.

'Draco Malfoy has taken the Mark,' Severus said grimly.

'So this is to be Lucius' punishment,' Dumbledore said thoughtfully, leaning back in his chair.

He had suspected that Voldemort's wrath towards Lucius would in someway involve the Malfoy boy. Despite Lucius' seeming indifference towards Draco, he was still the Malfoy heir. And if there was one thing Tom had immersed himself in, thought Albus, it was Pureblood politics.

'You are not surprised,' Severus stated accusingly, breaking into Albus' train of thought. 'You suspected this could happen, yet you still let the boy be marked?'

Dumbledore studied the incensed man before him. His reaction was unusual – something about the event had unnerved Severus.

'Yes I suspected,' Dumbledore confirmed gravely. 'But as you well know Severus, neither you nor I could make this decision for Draco. Like all of us Severus, he must be allowed to make his own choices in life and he too must learn to live by his choices.'

Severus did not seem appeased by his answer, although it was a topic he and Albus had discussed at length before. His reaction heightened Albus' awareness that something was wrong.

'What task has Voldemort set the boy?' he inquired sadly.

A queer expression flitted across Severus' face at his question, but it was gone before Albus could identify it.

'He has been tasked with killing _you_,' Severus spat bitterly.

_And so I have my answer,_ Albus thought; although it gave him no pleasure to understand the task that faced Severus. Dumbledore looked directly at Severus, suddenly feeling his many years.

'But it is really your task, is it not Severus?'

Albus watched as Severus' mask slid briefly, the confusion and anxiety evident on the younger man's face. Severus shifted uneasily beneath Albus' understanding and compassionate gaze, dropping his own to study a whorl in the oak desk between them. The silence stretched out, providing the answer to Albus' question.

'It is, of course the logical decision,' Albus began, breaking the silence and Severus' staring contest with the desk. He paused to give the younger man a sympathetic smile as he looked up in surprise at his words.

'I have become rather meddlesome these past few years,' he continued genially. 'In fact I'm surprised it has taken Tom so long to arrange my death. After all, he stands to gain much from this – enough to win the war I should think. Not only does he remove his greatest nemesis, if I do say so myself, but he stands to gain you Severus. Completing this task would put your loyalty beyond doubt. And your loyalty, although you may not realise it, will decide this war Severus.'

It was a mark of how deeply Severus had been affected by Voldemort's task that he did not question Albus' claim that his loyalty could decide the war. Instead the usually stoic man met Dumbledore's gaze, his own a mix of uncertain emotions.

'I cannot do this Albus,' he said simply, his voice cracking.

Dumbledore gazed down his crooked nose at the young man who had come so far. He had watched this boy his whole life. He knew his strengths and his weaknesses, he knew his desires and his hopes, he understood his mistakes and his regrets but above all he knew what Severus was capable of.

And his capabilities did not include cold-blooded murder.

Despite Severus' sordid past, he had surprised Albus when he had admitted he had never killed anyone. Somehow he had managed to persuade Voldemort of his loyalties in other ways. Still Severus had a fierce sense of pride and duty. If he were left with no other choice, Albus did not doubt that somehow Severus Snape would find the strength to complete his task.

'We shall see Severus,' Albus said softly. 'I've always found that worrying about what may or may not occur in the future only serves to make the present rather grim, wouldn't you say?'

He paused until Severus nodded reluctantly, the blank mask in place once again.

'If that is all Severus, I intend to leave the school directly.'

Snape raised an eyebrow; it was unusual for the Headmaster to disappear from Hogwarts so soon after the end of term. After all Albus was directly involved in closing the school down over the summer period.

'How long do you plan to stay away?'

'Oh I'm sure I'll be no longer than a week,' Albus replied gravely, a cold look entering his blue eyes.

Severus frowned at the sudden change in Albus' tone.

'What are you doing Albus?' he demanded quietly.

'A bit of this and a bit of that Severus, it is nothing to concern yourself with. I trust you will keep Hogwarts in good order whilst I am away?'

It was a rhetorical question, and Severus recognised it for the dismissal it was. Standing he offered Albus an ironic bow before stalking from the man's office, his black robes billowing in his wake.

XXXX

Harry was on his way back up to the castle after spending the morning with Hagrid when a voice hailed him.

'Harry!'

He looked up to find Albus Dumbledore approaching him, a thick travelling cloak fastened around his shoulders.

'Good morning sir,' Harry said respectfully, as the Headmaster stopped before him.

'I trust you have been keeping well?' Dumbledore asked, giving Harry a knowing look over his half-moon glasses.

'Yes sir, I've just been helping Hagrid with some of his Nifflers.'

He looked back in the direction of Hagrid's hut as he spoke, where the half giant could be seen working in his garden. Harry grinned fondly, before turning back to find the Headmaster studying him quietly.

'Are you going somewhere Professor?' Harry asked, attempting to ignore the evaluating gaze.

'Yes,' Professor Dumbledore said gravely. 'There is a matter that requires my immediate attention. I hope to return to the school before the week is out.'

Harry could see Dumbledore was in a hurry and so he bade the man goodbye. He continued up the lawn alone, enjoying the warmth of the sunlight. He was passing the greenhouses when Professor Sprout emerged. As always her robes were covered in dirt and her pointed hat skewed to the left, her wild hair barely contained beneath it.

'Mister Potter,' she greeted him warmly as she caught sight of him. 'Not getting yourself into mischief I hope?'

Harry blushed before he realised Professor Sprout was joking with him. He shook his head in embarrassment, earning a kind smile from the woman.

'If you're looking for a means to keep yourself occupied Harry, I have some Fanged Geranium that need re-potting.'

Harry agreed readily enough, following the Hufflepuff Head of House back into the greenhouses. After all, had Professor McGonagall not arrived in his dormitory that morning to inform him that the staff took their meals in the staff room whilst the students were away, and then waited patiently for Harry to dress so that she could give him the password, he did not think he'd have gotten up at all. Now that he had spent the morning helping out Hagrid though he realised it was far better to keep busy. It stopped him thinking about Sirius.

In no time at all it seemed Harry had re-potted the allotted Geraniums, without a single bite much to his own satisfaction. Seeing that Professor Sprout could not be disturbed, as she was pruning a particularly vicious Venomous Tentacula, Harry occupied himself with watering some of the herbs grown for Potions use. He smirked as he reached the monkshood. Regardless of Snape's methods he would remember forever that monkshood and wolfsbane are the same plant. He had almost watered the entire greenhouse by the time Professor Sprout came up to him.

'Marvellous job Harry,' she said pompously as she pulled off her elbow length protective gloves. 'Goodness!' she exclaimed as she caught sight of her watch. 'It's well past lunchtime. Can't have you starving Harry, come along now!'

It was only at the mention of lunch that Harry realised he was rather hungry, and hastily divested himself of his own gloves before following Professor Sprout out of the greenhouse. Professor Sprout spent a great deal of the walk chatting happily about her greenhouses and eventually Harry found himself joining in, surprising himself with how much he had learnt over the years during Herbology. When they entered the staff room only two staff members were still present. Both Professors McGonagall and Flitwick looked up from their game of chess as Harry and Professor Sprout entered.

'Don't you two make a pair,' Professor McGonagall said amusedly, using the interruption to take a sip of her tea.

Harry turned to look at Professor Sprout in confusion to find her looking as lost as he.

'Minerva,' Flitwick mumbled from beside her, although he was smiling also.

'What is it?' Harry asked, amused despite himself.

'I suggest you take a moment to take in the state of your clothing Mister Potter,' McGonagall continued. 'You too Pomona.'

It was only then that Harry realised he was covered in dirt and mud. Looking over at Professor Sprout, who was in a similar state, he could understand McGonagall's amusement.

'Oh...' he said aloud, which caused Professor McGonagall to chortle slightly.

Professor Flitwick however, pulled out his wand and with two flicks left Harry's and Professor Sprouts' robes spotless.

'Thank you Filius,' Professor Sprout said, pulling up a seat at the dining table.

The moment she sat down a spread of dishes appeared. Eagerly Harry joined her at the table. The House Elves had once again outdone themselves with a seafood buffet. Spotting some salmon, Harry heaped two fillets onto his plate, followed by a generous helping of the accompanying salads.

'Pomona, just what have you been doing with my student?' Professor McGonagall enquired, as she watched Harry dig into his meal.

'Why Harry generously offered to help me in the greenhouse,' Sprout answered simply, busying herself with her own helping.

'Indeed,' McGonagall answered amusedly, before turning back to her chess game.

By the time Harry had finished his meal the chess game was drawing to a close. He watched in surprise as Professor McGonagall deftly manoeuvred her bishop into position before claiming the victory.

'Well played Minerva,' Flitwick squeaked excitedly.

'Thank you Filius,' McGonagall said graciously. 'That makes us even once again then?'

'Quite right, quite right,' he agreed happily, packing up his own pieces.

'Minerva and Filius are always playing chess,' Professor Sprout said from beside him, noticing his confused expression. 'They keep track of who wins each time, but they're so evenly matched that it doesn't matter.'

'But Professor Flitwick is head of Ravenclaw,' Harry said without thinking.

'So he is,' McGonagall said smugly, startling Harry. 'Don't look so surprised Potter, as it happens, the Sorting Hat considered me for Ravenclaw, just as it considered Filius for Gryffindor.'

Harry gaped in surprise, as McGonagall left the room. How two of the Heads of House could have been eligible for either House seemed unthinkable – both Flitwick and McGonagall seemed to be the embodiment of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor respectively.

'Yes we often amuse ourselves with the idea that we could have switched roles had we not chosen as we did,' Flitwick said from beside Harry. 'I wonder if I might borrow you for the afternoon Harry?' he enquired politely. 'I could use some help ordering the Charms corridor and there's something I'd like to show you which may be of interest to you.'

'Of course sir,' Harry agreed readily, his curiosity piqued by Flitwick's suggestion.

XXXX

It was almost evening when Harry finished reordering the Charms books for the next year. He looked up as Flitwick called to him from the other side of the room. The Professor was standing before an Honour Board Harry had never noticed before.

'What is this Professor?' he asked curiously.

'I didn't think you'd seen it before Harry,' Flitwick said kindly, smiling slightly. 'These are the names of the students who graduated with the highest NEWT in Charms. I thought 1978 would interest you in particular.'

Unsure of what he would find, Harry turned towards the board, his brow furrowed slightly. Scanning down the long list he found the year he was looking for.

_1978 – Lily Evans_

Harry let out a small gasp at the sight of his mother's name.

'She was that good?' he said in wonderment.

Flitwick chuckled slightly.

'I'd have given it to her in 1977 as well but Lily insisted that it would be unfair on the class of 1977. She was one of the most talented students I've ever taught,' Flitwick added wistfully. 'A truly innovative and imaginative person, your mother was. She had quite a knack for creating her own little charms.'

'What was she going to do after school?' Harry asked curiously. 'Continue Charms study?'

If Professor Flitwick was surprised by Harry's lack of knowledge he hid it well, but Harry could see the man's gaze softened at the realisation that Harry knew very little about his mother.

'Lily could have done anything,' Flitwick began fondly. 'I think if she'd had the chance she'd have settled on teaching though, undoubtedly after a lengthy apprenticeship in Charms. The War tended to influence decisions and many a time she considered becoming an Auror or a Healer. Eventually the unrest was so great that she put aside all thoughts of teaching. Instead she married James and I believe she became a full member of the Order of the Phoenix.'

There was silence for a long while as Harry digested the new information and Flitwick lost himself in his own thoughts.

'Thank you for telling me,' Harry said hoarsely.

'It is my pleasure Harry,' he said kindly. 'You are more than welcome to ask about your mother at any time. She would have been proud of your work in Charms. I trust you plan to continue into NEWTs?'

Harry nodded. 'If I get my OWL,' he added.

Flitwick smiled at that.

'You certainly have a place in my class Harry. Your work in the final few weeks was of a very high standard. You certainly put in the study. Besides is it not your ambition to become an Auror?'

'Yeah,' Harry agreed embarrassedly. 'Well if I get my Potions and Transfiguration OWLs.'

'James would be very proud to know that you are following in his footsteps.'

'My dad was an Auror?' Harry asked in surprise.

Again Flitwick hid his surprise, continuing on eagerly with only the barest hint of a pause.

'Yes, he joined up the moment he left school. He was determined to earn his own way in the world and he saw joining the Aurors as the surest way to bring about an end to the conflict. I think Lily was happy to put off her own career until the end of the war because James was prepared to enter into the Ministry. She was expecting you at the time and well, knowing Lily, she would have wanted stability in her family. Unfortunately James never graduated from the Academy. He was almost done with his training when your family was forced into hiding by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.'

Harry stared resolutely out the window as he remembered the destruction Voldemort had caused his family. His father hadn't even been able to complete his training before Voldemort had decided to come after them. Once more Harry found himself cursing the wretched Prophecy, and even more so the fool who had delivered it to Voldemort.

'I believe the Auror Corp awarded your father several medals posthumously,' Flitwick added quietly. 'They recognised him as one of their own – even though he didn't get the chance to complete his training.'

Silence fell once again before Flitwick finally suggested they go to dinner. Harry walked silently beside Flitwick, lost in his thoughts. He noticed the Professor was watching him out of the corner of his eye with concern, undoubtedly regretting having caused Harry distress. As they reached the door to the staff room, Harry offered him a weak smile before stepping into the crowded staff room.

XXXX

Snape frowned slightly as he watched Harry enter the staff room, noticing the boy's strained expression with unease. Something had clearly upset Harry but he was doing his best to appear carefree as he seated himself next to McGonagall. Severus watched with surprise as an uncomfortable Flitwick followed Harry in. Snape continued his solitary meal but he did not fail to notice that Flitwick was keeping a close eye on Harry. Once more cursing his position as spy, which forbade him from outright interaction with Harry, he vanished his plate back to the kitchen and with trademark scowl in place stalked silently from the staff room.

Stepping out into the Entrance Hall he sought refuge in the shadows of an alcove, prepared to wait for Harry to appear in the hopes that he would be able to get the boy alone. He'd been leaning against the wall for less than a minute when Harry exited the staff room. Snape watched in surprise as the boy made straight for the dungeon staircase, evidently not noticing Snape in the shadows. Recollecting himself Snape strode out of his alcove and hurried to catch the boy on the stairs. He had honestly not expected Harry to appear so soon and was surprised to realise Harry was clearly seeking him out. He caught up to Harry outside his office.

'Looking for someone Mister Potter?' he sneered, in a mimic of his classroom tone.

Harry whipped round in surprise, but relaxed when he saw the amusement in Snape's eyes.

'No I thought I'd just take a stroll in the dungeons,' Harry replied dryly without missing a beat.

'Indeed,' Snape said quietly, smirking as he opened his office door and waited for Harry to precede him through.

With a flick of his wand he unlocked his private quarters, indicating that Harry should go straight through. Locking his office behind him he stepped into his living room to find Harry already seated on the couch.

'You've been keeping busy, Nifflers _and _Fanged Geraniums' Snape said conversationally as he seated himself in his armchair, flicking his wand to stoke the fire.

Harry gaped in surprise, _had Snape been following him around?_

'Hagrid and Pomona scarcely spoke of anything else all dinner,' Snape said bemusedly, correctly interpreting Harry's look of confusion. 'You do realise you are on holidays Harry?' he added, sounding as though he were questioning Harry's sanity.

'Yeah,' Harry answered quickly, scowling good-naturedly at the man's theatrics. 'It's just better to be doing stuff at the moment...'

Harry trailed off, colouring slightly as he realised he'd said too much. Snape sobered immediately at Harry's statement, his bemused smile disappearing to be replaced with a slight frown as he studied the boy before him with a deeply concerned look.

'Harry you said you'd come to me if it was getting bad,' he said quietly.

The boy dropped his gaze in discomfit, instead seeking out the threads of the couch to distract himself with – much as he had done when he had been uncomfortable at Spinner's End. Snape ran a hand distractedly through his hair. He'd thought Harry had reached the turning point in his grief – obviously he'd been mistaken. Severus could hardly fault the boy though; he himself had spent fourteen years wallowing in his own grief. The first few years had been the hardest; in retrospect he wondered how Dumbledore had justified his employment to the other staff members.

He had few memories of those particular years but he did know that he had spent them lashing out at those around him. His acerbic tongue and sarcastic remarks had won him no friends and driven all but Dumbledore and surprisingly Poppy from him. It had only been when Minerva had finally snapped and given him the dressing down of his life that he'd managed to pull his act together – with a lot of help from Poppy –to create the semblance of a normal functioning human being.

'What you're feeling isn't wrong Harry,' he began slowly. 'It's normal to feel upset...to want to hide away and to distract yourself from thinking about your godfather. But I can tell you now that trying to pretend nothing is wrong will not help you in the long run. Hiding away isn't going to bring Sirius back and what's more your godfather would not have wanted you to.'

'Is that how you felt when my mum died?' Harry whispered.

The boy had been staring at the fire but at Snape's silence he turned to look at Snape. Severus could see the grief in Harry's eyes but it was diminished, replaced instead with concern and understanding.

'I...' he stuttered, his voice suddenly hoarse. 'I...yes...yes that was...'

He broke off suddenly, aware of how hypocritical it was for him to lecture Harry. He couldn't even give the boy a straight answer about his own feelings on Lily's death. Instead the familiar grief was there to trip him up, causing him to stutter like a fool. Berating himself, he carefully locked away his emotions before answering Harry properly, albeit rather stiffly.

'Yes, your mother's death saddened me greatly.'

Harry stared at him incredulously, a look of disbelief on his face at the stiff and formal answer Severus had provided. He knew Lily meant more to Severus than he had ever let on, but the man's statement was incongruous with what Harry knew of Snape's feelings towards his mother.

Deep down even Severus recognised the words as the ridiculous sentiments which they were. "Saddened me greatly" did not describe how completely Lily's death had affected him. With effort he prevented his mortification from showing, instead returning his attention to Harry.

'Did something happen today with Professor Flitwick?'

Harry scowled at the change of topic.

'No,' he bit out.

Snape noticed the boy unconsciously clench his fists – a testament to some internal struggle. He raised an unconvinced eyebrow, silently prompting Harry to answer more thoroughly.

'He showed me the Honour Board in the Charms corridor,' the boy admitted, letting out a breath in resignation.

Snape's eyes widened marginally in understanding, but with it came confusion. He had thought Harry had been upset about Black...but it seemed Lily was the source.

'Did he say something about your mother?' Severus asked in confusion.

As far as he could recall Flitwick had been quite fond of Lily Evans. It did not seem plausible that the man would speak ill of her.

'What?' Harry asked in genuine surprise.

Snape shook his head minutely, obviously he had been mistaken. He gestured for Harry to continue. The confused boy sent him a searching look before continuing on.

'I'd never looked at it before,' Harry admitted. 'I didn't realise...Mum topped Charms.'

Severus smiled wistfully at the look of wonderment and pride on Harry's face.

'Yes, she was incredibly talented at school, in all her subjects. But it was Charms she loved the most.'

Harry sent him an appreciative smile, filing away the freely given information about the mother he had never known.

'She wanted to be a teacher,' Harry said hoarsely, feeling compelled to explain his distress to Severus.

His words were met by silence and Harry looked up to find Snape studying him quietly, his gaze a mix of confusion and sympathy. He realised Snape didn't understand what he was trying to say...what he had realised in that classroom with Flitwick...the reason he had been so angry.

'She didn't end up doing it though,' he said harshly, his tone becoming bitter as he voiced the thoughts that had been plaguing him for the last few hours, weeks...years really. 'Voldemort killed her before she could...and Dad, he'd almost finished his Auror training but the prophecy forced them into hiding and –'

Harry broke off suddenly, breathing heavily. Flitwick's simple recollections had unleashed a torrent of realisations. Learning about Lily and James' ambitions had made his parents seem more real. And that was what had upset him so much – the realisation that James and Lily had had plans...that they'd had hobbies...that they like everyone else had had hopes and dreams. It wasn't that he'd not known before but more that now he understood just what Voldemort had taken from them...taken from him. And all because of a collection of words that combined in a particular order defined the fate of the Wizarding world.

'They never stood a chance,' Harry said with sudden understanding.

He looked over to see Snape lost in thought.

The sudden mention of the prophecy was like a knife in the gut, but Severus kept his mask in place. It was a sour reminder that he had yet to reveal his role to Harry. The guilt gnawed at him endlessly but every time he tried to admit that he was to blame – that he was the reason Harry had no parents – the words stuck traitorously in his throat. Even now he wanted to speak up but just as he opened his mouth, sure that this time he would speak the words, Harry cut him off.

'I'm not going to let it happen to me,' Harry said determinedly. 'I'm not going to face Voldemort because of the prophecy. I don't care what Trelawney said. I'm going to finish him because he started this. He killed my parents, Cedric...Sirius,' he wavered slightly on the last name but he continued on resolutely, willing for Snape to understand that he was making the choice to fight Voldemort. 'If it's the last thing I do, I'm going to finish him.'

'Harry it's not your job to finish this,' Snape said in alarm. 'You're a child, no one expects you to do this.'

Dimly Severus was aware that he was responding like a parent would towards their own child. The thought of Harry attempting to kill the Dark Lord paralysed him with fear. He knew without a doubt that he would die before he let Harry face the Dark Lord.

Harry was smiling at him, a strange look in his eye. The benevolent yet sad smile looked wrong on the fifteen year olds face – it was a smile that had often been bestowed upon Severus by a much older man.

'This is my choice Severus,' Harry said calmly. 'I choose to fight but not because of the prophecy. I choose to fight for the _same_ reason that you return to Voldemort – no matter what it costs you to do so. I choose to do so on _my_ terms...and it is that which makes all the difference in the world.'

Harry watched as his words seemed to stun Snape temporarily. He smiled fondly at the astounded look on his Professor's face. It was not something he had ever witnessed before but he was not surprised that Severus had been temporarily side-lined. The night Severus had woken up from his possession and returned to the Dark Lord he had told Harry that it was his own choice...that he had a debt to repay. The words had confused Harry for a while but he thought he'd worked it out...and judging by Severus temporary incapacitation he'd gotten it right. They were both doing this for Lily.

Severus didn't hear Harry leave his quarters but when he did eventually shake himself from his thoughts he found the room empty and the fire burning low. It was only now, hours later, that he'd understood why the look in Harry's eyes had seemed so strange for a fifteen year old contemplating facing the Dark Lord. There had been no fear, doubt or apprehension in the boy's gaze. There had been only acceptance.

XXXX

Sunday evening was rapidly deteriorating into a shambles. What had started out as the traditional end-of-year staff party, which Severus had assured him was normally a relatively quiet affair, had turned into one of the wildest parties Harry had ever attended. Surprisingly Professor McGonagall seemed to be at the centre of the fiasco although she was only the mastermind. It was the usually stoic, sarcastic and thoroughly bad-tempered Severus Snape who had become the life of the party.

The evening had started quietly with the staff enjoying drinks and canapés as they mingled, discussing plans for their holidays. Harry had seated himself with the Heads of House, who had ensconced themselves once more in their private corner. He'd been sipping Butterbeer, smirking slightly as he'd listened to Professor McGonagall and Snape bantering over Quidditch. That had all changed with the Gryffindor Head of House challenging her Slytherin counterpart to a chess game.

Professor Snape had agreed readily enough but had paused in assembling his pieces when Professor McGonagall had unexpectedly suggested that they make the game more interesting than usual. Raising an eyebrow he had enquired as to what exactly her proposition was. Snape's expression when Professor McGonagall had withdrawn the Smirnoff Red Label Vodka and deliberately placed it on the table had caused Harry to snort some of his Butterbeer up his nose, and consequently he had descended into a coughing fit of mirth. Both Snape and McGonagall had ignored him, focused instead on the bottle. Professor McGonagall had then proceeded to outline her simple terms for the game: the loser 'chugged' the bottle.

Being able to breathe properly once more, courtesy of Professor Sprout, Harry had watched as Snape's eyes flickered uneasily between Professor McGonagall and the bottle of Muggle Vodka. He clearly did not trust McGonagall at all but when Professor McGonagall had asked loudly if he were _afraid_ of losing, Snape had clenched his jaw and accepted her challenge outright.

In retrospect that had been Snape's mistake Harry thought. As the game progressed it had become obvious to Harry that Snape had been set up by the other three Heads of House. It was subtle but he realised twenty minutes into the game that Snape wasn't _just_ playing Professor McGonagall. If he watched closely, right before she'd make a move Professor McGonagall's eyes would flick briefly towards Professor Flitwick who would either give the smallest nod or shake of his head. Depending on Flitwick's decision Professor McGonagall would either make the move or select another.

Harry was surprised Severus hadn't noticed but then he'd realised Professor Sprout's role in the deception. At first Harry had thought she'd just had bad timing but then he'd realised it was deliberate. She was engaging Severus in conversation at crucial times, continually breaking the man's concentration. Harry was surprised Snape hadn't snapped at her but it seemed he attempted to restrain himself in the company of his colleagues.

The game ended up lasting forty minutes in total. Snape had managed to hold his own for thirty minutes but eventually not even his Slytherin cunning could save him from the combined wits of Flitwick and McGonagall. Harry had watched in awe as the last ten minutes turned into a massacre before McGonagall deftly secured her win with a resounding 'Checkmate'.

Snape's scowl, which had darkened formidably as the chess game had progressed, had been fixed sourly on the beaming Professor McGonagall. Before McGonagall could salt his wounds further the annoyed man had seized the bottle of Vodka roughly, opening it with ease.

'Fortunately,' he'd sneered, 'your conditions do not prevent me from taking a Sober-up potion the moment I've completed your ridiculous task.'

With a triumphant smirk, Snape had tipped his head back and sculled the entire 350mL bottle...

And that was when all hell had broken loose.

The moment Snape put the bottle down, Harry had known something was wrong. The dark scowl had disappeared and instead Severus had stood before them all looking slightly bemused and far too cheerful. Harry had looked around in astonishment to find Professors McGonagall, Sprout and Flitwick all beaming triumphantly at Snape.

'What did you do?' he'd asked in disbelief.

'Nothing too permanent,' McGonagall had replied regretfully. 'He has unwittingly ingested an Elixir to Induce Euphoria, cleverly disguised within the Muggle liquor. It should wear off in an hour or two.'

That had been four hours ago.

Harry was now the only sober person in the room. Somehow Severus had managed to get every other member of staff drunk. To be fair it had not been a particularly hard task. The year they had all endured with Professor Umbridge seemed to have left the staff disposed towards a night of celebrations. Sitting off to the side Harry watched as Severus danced far too familiarly with several of the female Professors, including Professor McGonagall – to Harry's own horror. He looked away in embarrassment as Severus suddenly seized one of the younger Professors (he thought she might have been the Muggle Studies Professor) and whispered something in the woman's ear that made her blush a deep red.

Once again Harry found himself contemplating his options. He had already tried several times to drag Severus away from the festivities but the man had been adamant that he wished to stay, and in frustration Harry had given up. He was startled form his thoughts though at the sound of clinking glass and looked up to find himself face to face with Professor Trelawney. It had been the sound of her sherry glass connecting with one of the many beads that were hung about her neck that had alerted him to her presence. She like the rest of the staff had been drinking but she seemed only tipsy as she peered through her thick glasses at Harry. Finally she seemed to recognise him.

'Harry,' she said, smiling brightly as she seated herself next to him, 'how good to see you, dear!'

'Hello Professor Trelawney,' he replied politely, shifting uncomfortably at her close proximity

'I feel as though I've barely seen you this year Harry,' she said regretfully. 'What with that centaur taking over my classes.'

She paused to give an angry huff before continuing on.

'Quite an incompetent...no understanding of the subtlety of the Inner Eye,' she ranted. 'Can you believe Dumbledore has asked him to stay on Harry?'

'Err no,' Harry answered honestly.

The news did not particularly interest him as he had no intention of continuing Divination in Sixth year. Besides he was quite sure he'd failed that particular OWL.

'Highly irregular...'Professor Trelawney muttered. 'And to think I've been teaching here for sixteen years! Dumbledore himself interviewed me...'

Harry's attention, which had been drifting, was snapped back at the mention of her interview with Dumbledore. It had been during this meeting that the Prophecy had been given...and overheard. He felt his gut clench tightly at the thought that perhaps Professor Trelawney would be able to identify the Death Eater whom had destroyed Harry's family. But he had barely opened his mouth to ask, when he was interrupted by the arrival of Snape.

'Harry!' the man said joyfully, clapping him painfully on the back, before seating himself far too close to Harry and wrapping an arm tightly around Harry's shoulders.

'Harry...Harry...Harry,' he repeated, turning it into something of a song.

Harry suspected that singing was a side-effect of the potion Snape had been given because the man had not been opposed to breaking out into song frequently over the past few hours.

'You can't just sit here doing nothing...' Snape slurred but he broke off when he caught sight of Professor Trelawney.

'Sybil,' he said excitedly, getting up from Harry's side to wedge himself between Harry and Trelawney. 'Sybil, my dear, how have you been?'

Professor Trelawney did not seem to appreciate Severus' proximity; in fact she seemed rather flustered. She was saved from answering his question though when someone else caught Snape's attention and he darted off without a backward look. Harry watched him go, frowning deeply. Severus would be mortified if he realised what a fool he was making of himself. Harry supposed Snape's only saving grace was that it seemed unlikely _any_ of the staff members would be able to recall the night's events in any real detail come morning.

'Such a rude, impatient man,' Professor Trelawney declared from beside him, as she stood – clearly offended by Snape's behaviour. 'Always sneering and lurking around. Not to mention his habit of barging in unannounced. I don't know why Dumbledore ever hired him...particularly after the way he behaved during my interview!'

With that she gathered her shawls about her and stalked off in a huff, leaving a gobsmacked Harry in her wake.

_Snape had been at Trelawney's interview...the interview where she had revealed the Prophecy_. It wasn't possible, Harry thought in horror. He must have misheard...but Trelawney's words came floating back to him: _barging in unannounced...impatient...rude_. It was too much of a coincidence.

His thoughts were interrupted though as Hagrid suggested loudly that they take the celebrations to The Hogs Head. As one by one the grinning staff left the room Harry realised he was about to be left alone in Hogwarts. Dumbledore had impressed upon him the importance of remaining with an adult at all times. Knowing that it was his only choice; he stood and raced out of the room.

He could see him across the Entrance Hall, talking animatedly with Professor Sprout. For once he forced himself to stop and think before he acted. _Trelawney was drunk; he couldn't accept her words, he couldn't accuse him...not without further evidence. He would talk to Dumbledore first. Dumbledore would know what to do._ His decision made, he crossed the Entrance Hall and seized Professor Snape by the arm.

'You need to come with me Professor,' he said grimly.

Snape protested as the rest of the staff filed out of the Entrance Hall but Harry ignored him, instead pulling the man towards the Dungeons. Once inside Snape's quarters he deposited the man none to gently on the sofa, warning him not to move. Stepping back into Snape's office he examined the shelves – looking for some kind of antidote to the potion. After five minutes of searching he settled on a Sober-up potion.

Snape was where he had left him, although it seemed the potion was finally beginning to wear off, as his smile had been replaced with a grimace. He looked exhausted, undoubtedly a consequence of the potion. Wordlessly Harry offered him the potion. The man took it and without question downed it – a testament to his mind-altered state. Harry watched as Snape's gaze seemed to clear momentarily with the return to sobriety. However, Snape had barely taken in his surroundings before the exhaustion caught up with him and he slipped peacefully into unconsciousness.

XXXX

**A/N:** Before any of you question my sanity (as I know some of you will do) the final scene does have a purpose. Professor McGonagall does have a reason for spiking Snape's drink (NB: I in no way encourage this behaviour) and that will be discovered in the next chapter. For those of you wondering about Snape...he was indeed very much out of character in the final scene. This was deliberate. He had taken mind-altering drugs (NB: I in no way encourage this behaviour either) and as expected his personality is altered. Finally this last scene is kind of an end-point for any kind of celebration. I'll admit now that things are going to get serious pretty quickly from here on in so the last scene was quite symbolic in a way. Having said all this feel free to have your say about the scene.

Aside from that, sorry for the dealy in posting. Exams are looming and assignments take priority. I will endeavour to continue posting regularly and hope to have a new chapter out soon. Thank you kindly for all the reviews on my stories. I WILL get round to replying ASAP. Until next time!


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3 _23rd - 27th June, 1996_

Severus Snape was frustrated. It had been four days since Minerva McGonagall had seen fit to drug him and he had yet to forgive the impudent woman. He had woken after the disastrous evening to find himself sprawled uncomfortably across his sofa. It was only after he'd returned from a thirty-minute shower, with the irritating feeling that he could not quite recall the previous evening, that he'd spotted her note – undoubtedly delivered by a House Elf whilst he had been unconscious.

_Severus,_

_If you ever physically harm one of my Gryffindor's again, it won't be an Elixir to Induce Euphoria that I spike your drink with._

_Minerva._

Several profanities had escaped him, most directed at Poppy and her insufferable habit of gossiping with Minerva before he'd realised that Minerva had mixed the Euphoria Elixir with _Muggle_ alcohol. His fury had increased tenfold, as any rudimentary Potioneer understood that mixing an Elixir to Induce Euphoria with Muggle alcohol would enhance both the duration of the potion and its more unsavoury side-effects. He had been so enraged with Minerva that he had not hesitated to send her a rather explicit Howler questioning not only her intelligence but her integrity as a teacher at Hogwarts. The following morning he had received a rather contrite reply from Minerva. However, she maintained that Severus had been much more pleasant under the influence of the Euphoria Elixir, and perhaps he should consider "lightening up" more often. Despite his anger with Minerva she was not the cause of his frustration.

Harry Potter was.

The boy was avoiding him.

He had been so distracted with Minerva's deception that it had been late afternoon by the time he'd realised he hadn't seen Harry since the staff party. Feeling somewhat remiss Severus had gone in search of the boy. He had found him in Gryffindor Tower but had been surprised by the cool greeting he had received. Harry's behaviour had been so out of character that Severus had come to suspect something untoward had occurred the previous evening but despite his insistent questioning Harry had been adamant that he was "fine" and "nothing was the matter". Perplexed Severus had left the boy to his own devices, returning to his own rooms.

Since then Harry had barely spoken two words to him. He spent his days either with Hagrid or flying on the Quidditch Pitch. In fact Severus did not doubt that Harry would have avoided him entirely if he hadn't been forced to stay in the Potion's master's quarters. That particular... _conversation_...had not been pretty Snape recalled with a grimace.

_It was close to curfew and Severus was beginning to lose patience. He'd sent a House Elf to find Harry half an hour ago to inform the boy that dinner was being served in his quarters but Harry had not yet appeared. Instead a rather reluctant House Elf had returned several minutes ago to inform Severus that Harry had already eaten before promptly disapparating back to the kitchens. Keeping a tight hold of his temper Severus took several deep breaths before leaving his quarters to locate the Boy-Who-Lived. _

_As expected he found Harry ensconced in Gryffindor Tower. The boy startled as Snape stepped through the portrait hole, promptly closing the photo album that was open on his lap. Standing, Harry faced Severus with a determinedly blank face._

'_Can I help you sir?' the boy asked politely._

'_Merlin Harry,' Snape bit out, unimpressed with the boy's diversionary tactics. 'If I've done something to offend you spit it out. In all honesty I remember very little of last night's...activities.'_

_For a moment Severus thought the boy was going to speak. The blank mask slipped for an instant, and Severus watched as unspeakable anger and hurt flitted across the boy's facade. But no sooner had Severus recognised the barely contained emotion it was gone; hidden once more behind the blank mask._

'_It's nothing sir,' Harry said flatly, the effort of constraining his emotions obvious in the boy's hesitant speech. 'Just a...misunderstanding.'_

_Severus considered demanding an explanation but he thought better of it. Harry was obviously angry about something and was attempting to keep his emotions under control. Besides nothing good had ever come from Severus confronting the boy when he was so obviously angry – the last time he'd done so he'd ended up being stunned._

'_As you wish,' he began carefully. 'However, I must now ask that you return to my quarters. With the staff gone there is no reason for you to remain in Gryffindor Tower.'_

_His announcement was met with stony silence._

_Eventually Harry broke the silence._

'_Why can't I stay here?' he asked tersely, clenching his fists tightly in frustration._

_Severus was taken aback by the blunt question. Harry's careless words cut mercilessly at him – it was the same pain he'd felt the moment Lily had walked out of his life: '_I can't pretend anymore. You've chosen your way, I've chosen mine.'_ As he had always done though, he shoved the feelings away, determined not to show weakness._

'_You cannot stay here now that Professor McGonagall has left the school,' he explained tiredly, although he was unsuccessful in keeping the bitterness out of his voice._

_His explanation was met with a blank look. Sneering slightly he bit back the sharp retort that would normally have come forth automatically._

'_A Head of House is always aware of the happenings within their House dormitory,' he said tightly. 'It is part of the protection of Hogwarts, as you would have known if you had ever taken the time to read 'Hogwarts: A History'. Whilst Professor McGonagall was here you were under her protection by residing in Gryffindor Tower. That is no longer the case. You are now under my protection and I will not ask you again,' he finished sternly._

_Harry was not happy. He could see it in the boy's mannerism; he was very close to losing control._

'_Fine,' the boy bit out angrily, before marching out of the portrait hole._

_By the time Severus reached his quarters Harry had already shut himself inside the spare room._

The only time Severus had seen him since that conversation was when he'd check the boy's room late at night. Each time Harry had been in his bed, sleeping peacefully. He suspected the boy was using his infernal Invisibility Cloak to allow him to enter and leave his quarters without alerting Severus, but he was relieved to always find the boy in bed.

Snape leaned forward tiredly, stoking the dying embers of the fire. He'd been so caught up in his musings that he'd lost track of time. It was well past midnight he noted absentmindedly as he picked up his abandoned tea cup, standing to take it into the kitchen. He'd barely taken two steps though before a loud CRACK cut through the silence. The cup fell from Snape's grip, shattering as it hit the ground. The man turned on the spot, wand at the ready, but was brought up short as he noticed the House Elf before him.

'Master Snape sir,' the terrified creature squeaked, rushing forward and attempting to drag Snape towards his fireplace. 'You must hurry sir! You must hurry! Headmaster Dumbledore, sir, he needs you now!'

XXXX

Harry was bored. He was currently lying spread-eagled across his bed in Snape's quarters, trying to fall asleep. His self-imposed avoidance of Snape was becoming tiresome. There was only so much of Hagrid's food he could inflict upon himself and he was horrified to realise that as much as he loved flying, doing so by oneself for hours at a time became rather tedious. Not to mention the ridiculous methods he was employing to sneak out of Snape's quarters in the morning. The truth of the matter though, Harry reflected was that he missed talking to Severus.

Harry had found that one of the benefits of prolonged periods of flying was that it had given him time to think. The rash anger had all but disappeared. Instead it had been replaced with a desire to know the truth. For the past day Harry had considered confronting Severus – asking him outright if he was the Death Eater who had listened at the door. But each time he had approached the dungeons he'd stopped short and turned away. He'd realised then that his desire to know was overshadowed by a much stronger emotion: fear.

He was scared – scared that Severus' answer would be yes.

He hated that he was being such a coward; he could see that his behaviour was hurting the man, but he could not face the possibility that it was Severus. He could not bring himself to believe that Severus Snape had brought his family to the attention of Voldemort.

Deep down though Harry knew it was the truth.

_Snape had been a Death Eater; Dumbledore trusted him; He was a spy for the Order of the Phoenix; His best friend was Lily Evans; He had a debt to repay._

They were all facts Harry had been given. It was only when he'd put them together though that he'd started to realise that something about Snape didn't add up. _What had caused him to turn from the Death Eaters? Why did Dumbledore trust him implicitly? Why had he turned spy for Dumbledore? Above all though - to whom did he owe such a debt that he was prepared to give his life to see it paid?_

They were all questions that had occurred to Harry over the past few days and eventually he had found his answer. It was the only logical explanation that fit the facts. Snape had been the Death Eater at the door.

Harry let out an exasperated sigh. He knew Snape was in the sitting room. The man had to be less than ten steps away from him but he couldn't bring himself to get off the bed. Besides he wasn't sure what he wanted to say to Snape yet.

Letting out another loud sigh he pummelled his pillow into shape before resolutely shutting his eyes and ignoring his tumultuous thoughts. Within minutes he'd drifted off to sleep.

XXXX

CRASH!

The sound of breaking china woke Harry instantly. He felt as though he'd only just closed his eyes, but a glance at his wristwatch showed him it was close to one in the morning. Without hesitating Harry slipped off his bed and silently approached his bedroom door, intent on investigating the source of the crash. Reaching the door he realised a House Elf was outside with Snape.

'_You must hurry sir! You must hurry! Headmaster Dumbledore, sir, he needs you now!'_

Harry frowned in confusion, the House Elf sounded distraught. _What was going on?_ Carefully Harry eased his bedroom door open. Through the gap he could see a dishevelled looking Snape, five o'clock shadow obvious upon the man's visage.

'Where is he?'

Snape sounded tired but Harry could hear the urgency and worry in the man's voice. He watched as Snape strode towards his adjoining office, the House Elf following behind him.

'In his office sir, please hurry!'

Harry heard Snape snap an annoyed reply at the Elf before dismissing it apologetically. He watched as Snape returned from his office, carrying a satchel. The man looked haggard without his school robes on and the sleeves of his blue button down rolled to his elbows. Without wasting another moment, Snape grabbed a handful of floo powder, throwing it dismissively into his fireplace. The green flames roared to life and within moments Severus had disappeared from the grate.

Harry let out the breath he hadn't realise he'd been holding. Slowly he eased the door open further, allowing the dim light from the sitting room to seep into his own room. For a long moment he stood indecisively in the doorway, staring at his bed. Snape had warned him against eavesdropping but now that he'd heard Dumbledore was back, he couldn't stop himself from wondering about what was happening.

His decision made he moved deliberately towards his trunk. Crouching down he pulled out his Invisibility Cloak. Harry had spent an entire year being kept in the dark...he wasn't prepared to do that anymore. He'd made his decision to fight in this war and if that meant he had to sneak around the castle to get answers, then that was what he would do he thought resolutely. Although he did feel guilty that he was ignoring Severus' advice.

He pulled the Invisibility Cloak on before leaving his room, shutting the door behind him. Approaching the fireplace he grabbed a fistful of floo powder. He threw the powder into the fireplace, causing green flames to roar to life in the hearth. Hesitantly he stepped into the flames, suddenly apprehensive about what he was about to do. He hadn't the faintest idea about what was occurring in Dumbledore's office...for all he knew he was about to floo into a private conversation. The green flames were bound to make for a spectacular and obvious entry, he thought dryly. He considered going back to bed then, but the memory of Snape's slightly panicked look gave him pause. It was just as likely that both Severus and Dumbledore would be too busy to notice his arrival. Besides, he'd wanted to talk to Dumbledore all week. He knew it was a weak excuse, but he needed to know what was going on. So without further thought he called out his destination, steeling himself for what was to come.

XXXX

It seemed that luck was on his side though. A roaring fire had already been burning in the Headmaster's fireplace, which masked the sound of his arrival. The green flames had lasted less than ten seconds and Harry doubted that either of the men in the office would have noticed them, even if they hadn't been so thoroughly distracted. Stepping out of the fireplace Harry had to stop himself from audibly articulating his surprise as he slowly made sense of the scene before him.

Dumbledore was slumped sideways in his throne-like chair, clearly unconscious. Snape stood before the man and was plainly working on Dumbledore, although Harry's view was blocked. Edging forward slowly Harry could hear Snape was muttering incantations at a furious pace, all the while manoeuvring his wand in intricate patterns over Dumbledore's arm. It was only as Harry moved past Snape that he was able to see exactly what the man was doing. Dumbledore's right hand dangled uselessly over the edge of the chair, burned and blackened.

Harry recoiled in horror at the sight of the limb. It looked dead.

Snape's muttering was becoming more insistent and Harry was alarmed to hear a slight note of panic creep into the man's tone. The sweat was obvious on Snape's brow as he laboured to fight the curse. For it was clear now to Harry that something so sinister could only be a product of the Dark Arts. Harry watched with morbid fascination as the blackness and decay crept further up Dumbledore's hand, seemingly with a life of its own. The curse destroyed the healthy tissue with apparent ease despite Severus' persistent counter-curse.

Harry shifted uneasily as minutes passed and the curse still seemed to be progressing. The next moment though Snape was smiling slightly and Harry could hear the relief in his tone as he continued to mutter continuously. He sounded more confident now and Harry realised he'd trapped the curse at Dumbledore's wrist. Snape's counter-curse must have worked because moments later Dumbledore began to stir feebly.

Snape was still muttering incantations, his wand pointed unwaveringly at Dumbledore's wrist, but with the realisation that Dumbledore was returning to consciousness he picked up a goblet containing a thick golden potion from the desk. Deftly he held the potion in his left hand before tipping it down Dumbledore's throat – all the while maintaining his counter-curse.

Suddenly Snape was silent and Harry watched as the weary man took a step back from Dumbledore's chair, wiping the sweat from his brow. He looked careworn but he wore a grimly satisfied expression as he fixed his gaze expectantly upon Dumbledore. Within moments Dumbledore's eyelids flickered and opened as the man returned to consciousness.

'Why,' said Snape without preamble, and Harry could tell he was furious, '_why_ did you put on that ring? It carries a curse, surely you realised that. Why even touch it?'

It was only now that Harry noticed the ring lying before Dumbledore. Curiously the stone embedded in the ring seemed to be cracked. Even more bizarrely the Sword of Gryffindor lay beside it, its rubies throwing impressive reflections across the room.

'I ... was a fool. Sorely tempted ...'

Harry looked up in alarm at the sound of the hoarse voice, barely recognising it as Dumbledore's. The man looked dreadful; his expression pallid, a light sheen to his forehead. He was studying the stone with obvious distaste.

'Tempted by what?'

Snape's scathing tone cut through the silence but Dumbledore ignored him. Harry watched as instead the Headmaster fingered the broken stone, his features taking on a satisfied expression.

'It is a miracle you managed to return here!' Snape said angrily, annoyed that Dumbledore was ignoring him. 'That ring carried a curse of extraordinary power, to contain it is all we can hope for; I have trapped the curse in one hand for the time being – '

Snape broke off, suddenly seeming unsure. With a start Harry realised the man was worried. Snape's words abruptly made sense and Harry took a step back in shock as understanding washed over him. _Dumbledore was dying!_ It was such a foreign thought that he struggled to comprehend the magnitude of Snape's explanation. _How could Dumbledore die?_ He wouldn't stand a chance against Voldemort without Dumbledore, he thought desperately. The Headmaster had always been there for him, he couldn't die.

The rational part of Harry's mind though, which always seemed to speak with Hermione's voice, accepted Dumbledore's mortality. _Not even Dumbledore can live forever, _Hermione's voice reminded him. Still it was hard for Harry to accept that Dumbledore now had a finite period of time left. With effort he pushed his chaotic thoughts away as he heard Dumbledore address Severus.

'You have done very well, Severus. How long do you think I have?'

Harry felt his jaw drop in surprise at Dumbledore's conversational tone; he might have been asking for a weather forecast. Snape took a moment to reply and Harry could tell he too was uncomfortable with Dumbledore's light tone.

'I cannot tell. Maybe a year. There is no halting such a spell forever. It will spread, eventually, it is the sort of curse that strengthens over time.'

Dumbledore smiled, seemingly unaffected by the news that he had less than a year to live. Harry frowned, a year was better than a few months but even so it was too little time.

'I am fortunate, extremely fortunate, that I have you, Severus.'

'If you had only summoned me a little earlier, I might have been able to do more, buy you more time!' said Snape furiously, although Harry could tell most of the fury was directed inwardly. Dumbledore did not seem to notice the guilt-ridden tone. Snape let out an exasperated breath at Dumbledore's indifference and Harry watched as the man's eyes focused on the broken ring and the sword lying across the desk.

'Did you think that breaking the ring would break the curse?' he demanded in a derisive tone.

'Something like that ... I was delirious, no doubt ...' said Dumbledore dismissively.

Harry could tell he was being deliberately misleading though; it was a tone he had often taken with Harry when he'd asked impertinent questions. He wondered at Snape's question though, why _had_ Dumbledore broken the ring? Particularly when it seemed Dumbledore knew very well that breaking the ring would not break the curse. His musings were interrupted as Dumbledore spoke up once more, having pushed himself into a more upright position.

'Well, really, this makes matters much more straightforward.'

Harry frowned in confusion. Looking towards Snape he found the man looked utterly perplexed. Dumbledore smiled before continuing.

'I refer to the plan that Lord Voldemort is revolving around me. His plan to have the poor Malfoy boy murder me.'

This time Harry had to physically bite down on his lip to stop himself from giving away his position. _What in Merlin's name was Dumbledore talking about?_ He sent a questioning look towards Snape, forgetting he was invisible, only to find the man's countenance had darkened significantly. Harry was about to look back at Dumbledore when he realised Snape was moving towards him, intent on taking the seat across from Dumbledore. With the agility of a Seeker, Harry managed to backtrack quickly enough that he avoided coming into contact with Severus. Hastily, Harry moved around to the other side of Dumbledore's desk, deliberately positioning himself so that he could observe both men's expressions with ease.

It was only when Fawkes let out a petulant squawk that he realised he was standing directly in front of the majestic Phoenix. To his absolute horror Fawkes call drew Dumbledore's attention. The man's blue eyes examined Fawkes closely before coming to rest deliberately on Harry, who was standing just beside the Phoenix. His breath caught in his throat as he realised that Dumbledore knew he was there. As always he felt as though he were being X-rayed as the Headmaster studied him closely, seemingly assessing the situation. Harry felt for sure that Dumbledore was going to demand he reveal himself but no sooner had the thought crossed his mind then Dumbledore was turning away. He'd given Harry the smallest of smiles before turning back to face Severus, his blue eyes twinkling knowingly.

Harry let out a surprised breath. He'd expected Dumbledore to send him away but it seemed the Headmaster _wanted_ him to stay. Snape's voice interrupted his thoughts and he once more returned his attention to the conversation before him.

'The Dark Lord does not expect Draco to succeed. This is merely punishment for Lucius's recent failures. Slow torture for Draco's parents, while they watch him fail and pay the price.'

Harry listened with rapt attention, attempting to keep up with the conversation. Snape sounded rather put out but his words did not seem to surprise Dumbledore, giving Harry the impression that the two men had discussed the topic before.

'In short, the boy has had a death sentence pronounced upon him as surely as I have,' said Dumbledore. 'Now, I should have thought the natural successor to the job, once Draco fails, is yourself?'

There was a short pause.

'We have discussed this Dumbledore,' Snape growled, sounding truly angry for the first time that evening. 'I _will not_ take your life.'

There was desperation to Snape's tone, which Harry had never heard. The Headmaster appeared unmoved though, simply studying his spy with something akin to disappointment. Harry wondered how Dumbledore could be so callous. He could hear the self-loathing in Snape's tone. The man despised himself for even considering the proposition. Dumbledore seemed content to ignore Snape's protests though, instead seemingly changing tack with barely a pause.

'Lord Voldemort foresees a moment in the near future when he will not need a spy at Hogwarts?'

Snape did not reply immediately, but when he did his tone was wary.

'He believes the school will soon be in his grasp, yes.'

'And if it does fall into his grasp,' said Dumbledore, almost, it seemed, as an aside, 'I have your word that you will do all in your power to protect the students of Hogwarts?'

Harry thought he could see where this was going. Dumbledore was weaving an intricate web around Severus; trapping the man in the centre by extracting seemingly harmless promises. Snape seemed oblivious to the walls closing in around him though as he nodded stiffly, accepting Dumbledore's terms and binding himself more tightly in the web. Harry wanted to stop him, make him see what was coming but a warning look from Dumbledore held him in place.

'Good. Now then. Your first priority will be to discover what Draco is up to. A frightened teenage boy is a danger to others as well as to himself. Offer him help and guidance, he ought to accept, he likes you –'

' – much less since his father has lost favour. Draco blames me, he thinks I have usurped Lucius's position.'

'All the same, try. I am concerned less for myself than for accidental victims of whatever schemes might occur to the boy. Ultimately, of course, there is only one thing to be done if we are to save him from Lord Voldemort's wrath.'

Snape raised his eyebrows and his tone was sardonic as he asked, 'Are you intending to let him kill you?'

Harry almost groaned aloud. _He doesn't realise where this is going_.

'Certainly not. _You _ must kill me.'

There was a long silence, broken only by the sound of Fawkes rustling his feathers uneasily. Harry looked over at the sound, to find the Phoenix studying him curiously and for a moment he felt sure that Fawkes could feel and understand his anger.

'You cannot ask this of me Albus,' Snape whispered, staring forlornly at the ground.

His tone was defeated and Harry realised the defiance was only an act now. The fight had gone out of Snape.

'The school cannot be left to the Death Eaters, Severus,' Dumbledore said quietly, his tone compelling. 'You know what Lord Voldemort expects, you must pass this final test Severus. You must become Lord Voldemort's most trusted. Hogwarts _must_ pass to you. There are no other choices Severus. Given what has happened tonight,' he indicated his withered hand, 'we can be sure that my death will happen within a year.'

'If you don't mind dying,' said Snape roughly, his voice raw with conflicting emotion, 'why not let Draco do it?'

'That boy's soul is not yet so damaged,' said Dumbledore seriously. 'I would not have it ripped apart on my account.'

Harry felt his anger flare. What about Severus, he thought furiously.

'And my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?' Snape demanded fiercely.

Dumbledore waited for Severus to regain his composure before answering the man.

'You alone know whether it will harm your soul to help an old man avoid pain and humiliation,' said Dumbledore quietly. 'I ask this one, great favour of you, Severus, because death is coming for me as surely as the Chudley Cannons will finish bottom of this year's league. I confess I should prefer a quick, painless exit to the protracted and messy affair it will be if, for instance, Greyback is involved – I hear Voldemort has recruited him? Or dear Bellatrix, who likes to play with her food before she eats it.'

His tone was light but his blue eyes pierced Snape just as they had pierced Harry's mere minutes ago, as though the soul they discussed was visible to him. Harry watched with horror as Snape's resolve cracked. Severus was going to accept and Harry knew that once Severus gave his word the man would not break it – no matter how much he hated his task. Dumbledore's words had created a web around Severus from which it seemed he could no longer escape. Not without completing Dumbledore's request.

Why is Dumbledore so determined to do it this way, Harry thought desperately. There has to be another way... there's always another way! Severus had raised his eyes from the ground and Harry knew he was about to agree. Throwing caution to the wind, Harry moved to pull off his Cloak.

He'd barely raised his arm to remove his Cloak though before Fawkes had taken flight from his stand. The tension in the room was broken as the Phoenix let out a mournful call before gracefully perching himself upon Severus' shoulder. Severus startled violently, almost unseating Fawkes, but the proximity of the Phoenix seemed to calm him. It took Harry a moment to realise that Severus' defeated expression was gone. The arrival of Fawkes had changed something and Harry knew immediately that Severus would not give in yet – not while Fawkes was there. Dumbledore seemed to realise that as well.

A weary expression crossed the man's face and his eyes once more came to rest unwaveringly upon Harry. There was a tinge of pride in the Headmaster's gaze as he studied Harry with a searching look. Finally he tore his gaze away returning it to his Potion's master.

'It would seem that Fawkes has taken quite a liking to you Severus,' Dumbledore said fondly. 'He has also reminded me that it is unwise to discuss such delicate matters late at night. We are both tired and I fear we are unlikely to come to a mutually agreeable arrangement tonight.'

Snape nodded stiffly, but said nothing.

'I ask only that you consider my request, Severus,' Dumbledore added quietly. 'We shall talk again soon.'

'As you wish Albus.'

Fawkes took leave of Snape's shoulder the moment the words passed the man's lips and Harry watched as the Phoenix returned to his perch. Snape stood and without looking back left Dumbledore's office.

'It would seem that Severus is more upset with me than he cares to let on,' Dumbledore observed softly, reminding Harry that he was still invisible.

Hastily he pulled the Cloak off himself, taking the seat which Snape had just vacated. Seeing Harry's confused look Dumbledore explained further.

'Severus almost invariably walks back to his quarters when he needs time to think.'

'Oh...right,' Harry said awkwardly, shifting beneath Dumbledore's penetrating gaze.

Fawkes let out a soft call, causing Dumbledore to chuckle slightly.

'Well Harry,' he said amusedly, although Harry could hear the weariness in his tone, 'you have certainly got Fawkes riled up. He does not often involve himself in the happenings of this office but it would seem he felt compelled to prevent Severus making a...' Dumbledore paused, searching for an appropriate word, '_hasty_ decision. Much like yourself, perhaps?'

Dumbledore studied Harry over the top of his half-moon glasses, a curious expression on the old man's face.

'You mean Fawkes wanted to stop you?' he asked embarrassedly. 'Because of ... _me_?'

'It would seem he wished to make me aware of your..._discomfit_.'

Seeing Harry's abashed look Dumbledore smiled kindly before continuing.

'Do not be ashamed of your loyalty to your friends, or your impeccable sense of justice, Harry. They do you great credit.'

There was a short pause.

'I confess that I never expected that Severus could truly look past his preconceptions concerning you Harry, but I can see now that you have _both_ proved me wrong. Only your fierce loyalty to Severus could have prompted Fawkes to act as he did,' said Dumbledore, looking fondly towards the majestic Phoenix. 'I thank you Harry, for you have taken the time to remind an old man that sometimes simply 'for the greater good' isn't a good enough reason.'

Dumbledore broke off, fixing Harry with such an intense gaze that he was forced to look away in discomfit.

'And other times it is the _only_ choice,' Dumbledore all but whispered. 'Do you understand, Harry?'

Meeting Dumbledore's gaze once more Harry could see that the Headmaster was willing him to understand the difficult situation...to accept what must happen.

'I think so,' Harry replied softly. 'But I don't agree... it's not the _only_ choice.'

Harry rushed on before Dumbledore could interrupt him, his tone becoming more confident as he warmed to his subject.

'Professor Snape said you had maybe a year, sir...anything could happen in a year. For all we know Voldemort could have been defeated. I mean, I'm not going to sit around waiting for Voldemort...I'm not going to let him call the shots anymore. I'm going to fight him every step of the way and not because of the prophecy. I'm going to fight him because he killed my parents and because he'd be happy to murder my friends... Merlin! I can't even talk to Professor Snape normally without it endangering all of our lives. Voldemort's had too much control over my life. I'm not going to let him dictate my life anymore.'

Harry broke off suddenly, aware that he'd digressed significantly from his original point. Sheepishly, he raised his gaze to meet Dumbledore's.

Dumbledore stared with pride down his crooked nose at the boy sitting before him. He still looked like a boy of sixteen but the speech Harry had just given, albeit rather passionate, displayed the wisdom and understanding of a much older man. Albus had hoped that after viewing the memories he had gathered so far, Harry would realise that his life did not have to be ruled by the prophecy. To understand that it was his _choice_ to fight Voldemort – even with the possibility of numerous Horcruxes. The fact that Harry had reached that conclusion without his help caused Albus to question whether he needed to rethink his plans.

'Do continue Harry,' Dumbledore said amicably, breaking the silence.

Albus bestowed a kind smile upon the abashed teenager which seemed to restore Harry's confidence.

'Well...' Harry began hesitantly. 'Even if Voldemort isn't defeated there are other options... You've created fake memories before with Professor Snape; surely you could do the same now? Or make it seem as though he killed you...?'

Harry paused, letting out a sigh as he absentmindedly ran a hand through his hair in frustration.

'I just don't think you should ask Professor Snape to give his word...not until you're sure it's the only option. You saw the way he reacted sir, you can't ask this of him. It's too much. He's done enough already,' Harry continued, his voice trailing away as he seemed to lose himself in thought, forgetting that Dumbledore was in the room with him, '... he shouldn't owe you... or me, anything... and he certainly doesn't owe my mother anything...'

'Professor Snape owes me nothing Harry,' Dumbledore said gently, although his eyes were alight with curiosity. 'As to what Severus perceives he owes your mother...that is something you must discuss with him.'

Harry frowned at the Headmaster's cryptic words. He had been so caught up in his own thoughts that he had unintentionally raised the topic which he had been meaning to discuss with Dumbledore all week. It seemed though that the Headmaster would remain as aloof as ever regarding the subject of Severus Snape's loyalties and so Harry decided to cut to the chase.

'It was Severus, wasn't it...' he asked grimly, although it wasn't really a question, more a statement. 'The night you interviewed Professor Trelawney, the Death Eater who overheard the prophecy was Professor Snape.'

Dumbledore's ill-concealed surprise told him all he needed to know. He'd been right. Dumbledore looked as though he were about to say something but before he could green flames roared to life in the fireplace depositing an unsettled Severus Snape upon Albus' hearth rug.

'Albus,' Severus said urgently, his agitated state revealing his anxiety. 'Harry's gone –'

Severus broke off as he noticed Harry seated at the Headmaster's desk. Albus watched as the concern disappeared from Severus' features, deliberately forced behind a blank mask as the man stared impassively at Harry. Intriguingly, Harry seemed to be wary of Severus' sudden appearance, raising Albus' suspicions that something had happened between the pair. He wondered if it had something to do with the information Harry had just revealed to him.

'Perhaps you should return to your room Harry,' Dumbledore suggested, breaking the tense silence which had descended upon his office.

Harry agreed immediately and Albus watched as the boy hurried to the fireplace, ignoring Severus completely.

'Good night sir,' the boy said hastily before clumsily flinging a fistful of floo powder into the flames.

With a whoosh the boy had disappeared back to Severus' quarters.

'One moment, Severus,' Albus called imperiously as his Potion's master made to follow directly after the boy.

Severus seemed to consider ignoring his request but reconsidered, once more seating himself across from Albus. The blank mask had disappeared with the removal of Harry and Albus noticed with concern that Severus seemed troubled.

'How long has he been here?' Severus asked tiredly, running his hands through his hair in a gesture of weariness.

'I believe he followed you up here not long after you arrived, although I only became aware of his presence after I regained consciousness.'

Albus noted that Severus did not seem particularly surprised by the information; instead he seemed to accept it, his shoulders sagging as though the knowledge were a burden.

'He heard everything?'

Dumbledore only nodded, watching as Severus' head fell forward into his hand – the universal action of defeat.

'If I might ask, Severus,' he said gently. 'Has something untoward occurred between you and Harry?'

Severus' head snapped up.

'What has he been saying?'

'Oh nothing terribly important, Severus,' Albus said dismissively. 'He was much more interested in the conversation he'd just overheard.'

Severus' head dropped back into his hands and silence fell on the pair. Albus studied his Potion's master with concern.

'I do rather think Harry wishes to talk to you Severus,' he prompted, for it was obvious to Albus – as an outsider – that both Harry and Severus needed to talk.

Severus let out a rather undignified snort before once more raising his gaze to Albus'.

'I think not,' the man said sourly. 'The boy has barely spoken two words to me since Sunday. He has been avoiding me like the plague.'

_Indeed... Suddenly Harry's odd behaviour made sense. Somehow he'd found out about Severus and had clearly decided to avoid the man. Although Albus was surprised the boy had not lashed out at Severus the moment he'd learnt the truth... clearly Severus has rubbed off on Harry, he thought contentedly. The tendency towards avoidance and taking time to think rather than outright confrontation was something he would have expected from Severus._

'Oh I'm sure he had his reasons, my boy,' Dumbledore said benignly, 'but I think you'll find he's ready to talk now.'

Severus looked rather scandalised at his announcement but the stoic man hid his emotions quickly before abruptly getting to his feet.

'If that is all...?'

'Of course,' Albus said graciously. 'Good evening, Severus...and thank you.'

Snape nodded stiffly before deliberately moving towards the fireplace. In a whirl of green flames he was gone from the office, leaving Albus to marvel at the reality of Severus Snape and Harry Potter getting along.

XXXX

Severus stepped once more into his sitting room. Albus' words had given him much to ponder, and not for the first time he found himself wondering just how much the Headmaster knew. It had taken Severus almost half an hour to walk back to his rooms after seeing to Albus. The deadly curse which had infected the Headmaster's hand had taken an inordinate amount of concentration and energy to contain and by the time he had reached his rooms the expected exhaustion was beginning to catch up with him. It could only be the lingering effects of Fawkes's presence which had enabled him to contemplate sleep when his mind was so preoccupied.

He had been on his way to his own room when he'd stopped outside Harry's closed door. As he had done every night that week he'd opened the door to check the teenager was within, and sleeping peacefully. To his alarm, Harry's bed had been empty. With a flick of his wand he'd lit the lamps in the room but the boy had still remained elusive. After the week he'd had and Dumbledore's fatal injury, misplacing the boy was the straw that broke the camel's back. Angry and anxious he'd not hesitated to floo directly back to Dumbledore's office – only to find the source of his worry already with the Headmaster.

Despite his anger that the boy had deliberately evaded him once more he could not help but recall the relief he had felt at finding Harry safe. His thoughts having returned to Harry he automatically looked towards the boy's room, expecting to see the door shut now that Harry had returned. Snape felt his heart clench in his chest at the sight of the open bedroom door. Harry had been deliberately shutting the door each evening of his stay – a message to Snape that he wanted to be left alone. Seeing the door open now, Snape's mind jumped to various scenarios, each involving either the capture or removal of Harry from Hogwarts.

_Surely he returned to bed_, he thought angrily, although he knew it was really worry for the boy's safety. Stepping into the bedroom Snape let out a relieved sigh as he found the teenager asleep, sprawled on top of the bed covers. Wondering at his own ridiculous reactions he let out an exasperated sigh before stepping into the room properly. Muttering about '_insufferable teenage boys_' and their '_inability to pick up after themselves',_ he gently pulled the covers down and positioned Harry in a slightly more comfortable position. Reassured that the boy was not like to die of a chill during the night he stood back, staring unguardedly at the boy for a long moment.

'I'm sorry,' he whispered, '... not just for whatever happened on Sunday... for everything.'

Snape let out a sigh, casting his gaze up to the ceiling. Harry stirred in his sleep but Snape, lost in his own thoughts, did not notice. _Why was it so hard for him to admit his fault to this boy?_ _He'd told Dumbledore...why should Harry be any different?_

Because his Lily's son, the little voice in the back of his mind reminded him. _The son of the woman I murdered..._

Still, he knew he could not hide it much longer; he would have to disclose it to Harry before they discussed the boy's guardianship. That was proving difficult though, what with Harry avoiding him. Looking down once more Snape considered how easy it would be to wake the boy and tell him now. Harry was here before him, he could not disappear...he would have to listen...

His hand hovered indecisively above the boy's shoulder and Snape willed it to move...to cover that small distance and wake the boy. He cursed himself for a coward though when it remained stubbornly four inches above the boy. Forming a fist he shoved the offending hand into his trouser pocket.

He was about to turn away when something stopped him. Some sixth sense that he needed to admit his wrongdoing now...or perhaps his subconscious had realised that Harry was no longer asleep, had felt him stirring. Whatever it was, in years to come Snape would always wonder what had prompted him to tell the boy at that precise moment.

Staring unseeingly at the opposite wall he finally summoned the courage to admit to his own role in the events that had destroyed Harry's family.

'The Death Eater...,' he began hoarsely. 'The one who listened at the door... it was –'

'I know.'

The simple admission cut Snape off before he could finish and the man took a hasty step backwards as he looked down in alarm to find Harry was no longer asleep. Instead the boy was sitting up in bed, his messy hair standing up at all angles and the green eyes of Lily Evans staring directly at him. Snape met the gaze for a moment, but the boy's expression was unreadable. For once he could not discern what the boy was thinking. He dropped his own gaze, unable to hold the intense gaze of those particular green eyes so soon after his confession.

The silence stretched out and Snape felt as though each minute were an hour as he waited for Harry to say something. When the boy remained silent, Snape became uncomfortable. Instinctively he wanted to slip away, as he had always done since he was boy. Escape from the accusations which were sure to come. He wondered what in Merlin's name had ever prompted him to say it aloud. _What was I thinking!_ Without looking at Harry he turned around and walked away.

He was almost at the door when Harry's voice stopped him once again.

'You made a mistake. I forgive you.'

Snape stood frozen in the doorway. Harry's words seemed to reverberate around the room as he attempted to make sense of them. _He forgives me?_ The thought was preposterous. He had expected anger...accusations...hate...not forgiveness. Forgiveness meant acceptance and acceptance meant understanding. _How could the boy understand? Does he not realise that I am responsible for his parent's death?_ Confused, Severus turned to look at the boy. Harry stared knowingly at him and in that moment Severus realised that somehow Harry understood completely. Bewildered, Snape inclined his head stiffly, acknowledging Harry's words before fleeing the boy's room.

Dropping wearily and fully clothed onto his own bed he wondered if he'd simply imagined that entire conversation. It certainly seemed surreal enough, he thought tiredly as his eyes closed of their own accord. Within seconds he was asleep.

For once, he slept through the night.

XXXX

It would take him several days to realise but with Harry's forgiveness, the nightmares which had so often manifested from his guilt over Lily's death no longer haunted him.

* * *

**A/N:** Thanks for all the reviews. Let me know what you thought of this latest chapter - I certainly found it interesting to write. Exams are in the next few weeks so updates will be a bit slow. Until then!


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4 _27th June, 1996_

Harry had barely opened his eyes when there was a flash of fire, accompanied by a soft squawk, as Fawkes appeared above his bed. The Phoenix had grown since his rebirth and was now the size of a chicken.

''Lo Fawkes,' Harry whispered sleepily, as he reached blearily for his glasses.

With his glasses on, he spotted the scroll that had been deposited upon his bed by Fawkes. Reaching forward Harry grasped the parchment and unrolled it.

_Dear Harry,_

_If it is convenient for you, I would like to see you in my office once you have eaten breakfast. There is a matter of great importance I wish to discuss with you before you leave Hogwarts for the summer. Fawkes will wait for your answer._

_I am, yours most sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_PS. You are most welcome to use the Floo connection._

Harry was now wide awake, staring at Dumbledore's letter in bafflement. What more could they possibly have to discuss, he thought incredulously. A number of possibilities sprang to mind, each more bizarre and unlikely than the previous, as Harry tried to come up with an explanation for the Headmaster's note. Harry was so lost in thought it was only when Fawkes nudged his knee that he realised the Phoenix was waiting for a reply.

'Oh right, sorry Fawkes,' he muttered hastily as he scrambled out of bed in search of a quill.

Locating a rather battered quill from the depths of his trunk he turned Dumbledore's letter over and hastily scribbled a reply.

_Of course, sir._

Fawkes snapped the reply up the instant Harry moved his quill away, and in a flash of fire the Phoenix was gone. Harry stared at the spot where the bird had disappeared for a moment longer before snapping out of his stupor and hurriedly pulling on clothes haphazardly. He emerged from his room two minutes later and made his way to the kitchen table. He'd just poured the milk on his cereal when he realised Snape was not at the table. Frowning, Harry leant back in his chair glancing up the corridor to where Snape's bedroom was. He hadn't noticed when he'd left his own room but Snape's door was open. Surprised, Harry went to investigate.

Looking into the room Harry was shocked to find Snape fully-clothed, spread-eagled across the top of his duvet. Hurrying forward, he let out a sigh of relief as he realised Snape was simply asleep. Snape must have been really worn out to have slept so late, Harry surmised. Since he'd been living with Snape, the man had always been up two or three hours before Harry himself. In fact Harry doubted he'd ever slept past six in the morning. At present it was nearing nine though and it looked like Snape wouldn't be waking anytime soon. With a small smile Harry exited the room silently, returning to his cereal.

Snape still had not woken by the time Harry finished breakfast. He was anxious to see Dumbledore as soon as possible though. Summoning a piece of parchment and quill, Harry set to writing a note for Snape. After the events of the previous evening he thought it would be best if he left Snape a message, in case he wasn't back by the time the man woke. Positioning the parchment so that Snape would see it when he entered the kitchen Harry moved to the fireplace. Throwing down a fistful of green powder, he called out his destination and disappeared in a swirl of emerald flames.

He emerged from the fireplace in Dumbledore's office to find the man himself seated at his desk in deep magenta robes. Dumbledore put aside his copy of the Daily Prophet he'd been perusing, instead fixing his twinkling blue eyes upon Harry.

'Good morning Harry,' Dumbledore greeted.

'Hello Professor,' Harry replied as he discreetly dusted himself off.

Dumbledore indicated that Harry should take the seat opposite him. Harry obliged, although his gaze was captured by the burnt and blackened hand of the Headmaster. Dumbledore's own gaze followed Harry's. The blue eyes rested upon the cursed hand for a moment before Dumbledore gently shook the sleeve of his robe, carefully obscuring the limb.

'I trust you and Severus sorted out your differences last night?'

Harry snapped back to reality to find the Headmaster studying him with a knowing look, the hint of a twinkle in the old man's gaze.

'I think so,' he replied honestly. 'He was still asleep when I left though so...'

Harry trailed off, shrugging.

'Oh I wouldn't worry about him,' said Dumbledore. 'He'll be a bit groggy for the next few days but he should be back to his normal self by the end of the week.'

Harry had no idea what Dumbledore was talking about. Dumbledore seemed to realise this and smiled apologetically before offering an explanation.

'Exposure to this sort of magic,' Dumbledore gestured to his withered right hand, 'without adequate preparation, will often cause fatigue.'

'Oh right.'

Silence descended on the office as Dumbledore fixed Harry with his piercing gaze. Harry had the distinct impression that he was being evaluated. Feeling uncomfortable, he let his gaze wander to the various portraits which encompassed the circular office. All of them appeared to be sleeping. He could have sworn though that Phineas Nigellus had been studying him silently not one minute ago, but when he looked directly at the portrait he seemed to be just as inattentive as his contemporaries.

'So, Harry,' said Dumbledore, in a businesslike voice. 'You have been wondering, I am sure, why I have called you here today?'

'Yes, sir,' Harry replied immediately, his curiosity piqued once more.

Dumbledore spared him a wistful smile before continuing on in a serious tone.

'I did not intend, Harry, to have this conversation with you until you became of age,' the Headmaster began gravely. 'In fact I had hoped that it would unnecessary for you and I to ever discuss this topic. However, last night changed everything.'

Dumbledore paused, studying Harry intently.

'There is now only a finite amount of time available – a year to be exact – during which I can still aid you. I am only sorry that I cannot offer you more time, Harry. My only consolation is that I waited so long to confirm my hypothesis – for I fear that this outcome,' here he gestured at his right hand, 'was inevitable.'

'What do you mean, sir?' Harry asked in alarm. 'And how _did_ you injure your hand?'

'I will answer both your questions in due time, Harry, for you would not understand the answers just yet. No,' Dumbledore continued quietly, 'in order for you to truly understand we must begin at the beginning.'

Dumbledore paused, fixing Harry with one final calculating look, before standing. Harry watched as Dumbledore approached the cabinet that stood by his office door and bent to retrieve something from within. He recognised the shallow stone basin immediately and watched apprehensively as Dumbledore placed the Pensieve in the centre of his desk.

'Last night Harry, you spoke to me of the prophecy,' began Dumbledore. 'You told me that you do not fight because of the prophecy – you fight because Tom Riddle destroyed your family. You fight because Tom Riddle is so certain that _you_ are the boy mentioned in the prophecy that he is prepared to murder your friends and destroy your life.'

'But the prophecy _does_ refer to me, doesn't it?' Harry cut in, unsure of what Dumbledore was trying to tell him. After all, Dumbledore had told him, not even a fortnight ago, that Voldemort had marked him as his equal. Surely there was no doubt now that he, _Harry_, was the child mentioned in the prophecy.

'Yes,' Dumbledore stated simply. 'Of that there is no doubt.'

'Then why does it matter?' Harry demanded, failing to keep the frustration out of his voice. 'I'm not going to let him control _my_ life any longer. I don't care what the prophecy says; I'm going to stop him.'

Silence met his outburst.

Harry, feeling embarrassed, distracted himself by fiddling nervously with a thread on his shirt. After a moment Dumbledore cleared his throat slightly and Harry looked up to see the Headmaster studying him. The brilliant blue eyes were full of pride but there was something else in the gaze as well – a deep sadness. The gaze unsettled Harry, and he had the sudden feeling that Dumbledore wasn't telling him something, but he shook it off at the Headmaster's next words.

'You truly are your parent's son Harry,' Dumbledore said gently. 'Both James and Lily would be immensely proud of you. As am I.'

'Thank you, sir,' Harry said thickly, surprised by the sudden praise.

'Once again I have underestimated you Harry.'

'Sir?'

'I had considered meeting you throughout the coming year, Harry, to discuss the information which I have uncovered,' Dumbledore began thoughtfully. 'In doing so I had hoped that you would have come to the realisation, under my guidance, that the prophecy does not rule your life. It would seem though that I have underestimated you significantly, my boy, as you have come to that exact conclusion by yourself. It is for that reason alone that I know you are ready to hear what I have discovered. It is fortunate indeed that you remain at Hogwarts for the next few days, as there is much to be discussed.'

'For several years now,' Dumbledore continued briskly, 'I have been collecting memories. I wish for you to view these memories with me now, Harry, as they are the basis of my research. I must stress though that from this point onwards, we shall be leaving the firm foundation of fact and journeying together through the murky marshes of memory into thickets of wildest guesswork. From heron in, Harry, I may be as woefully wrong as Humphrey Belcher, who believed the time was ripe for a cheese cauldron.'

'But you think you're right?' said Harry seriously.

'Naturally I do, but as I have already proven to you, I make mistakes like the next man. In fact, being – forgive me – rather cleverer than most men, my mistakes tend to be correspondingly huger.'

'The information, sir,' Harry began tentatively, 'it's about defeating Voldemort isn't it?'

Dumbledore nodded grimly as he opened the bottom drawer of his desk and extracted a crystal bottle containing a swirling silvery-white substance.

'Will it help me survive?' Harry asked quietly, his eyes fixed on the mesmerising swirls of the memory.

'I hope so Harry,' Dumbledore said softly.

There was silence for a moment as Harry considered Dumbledore's answer. Eventually he looked up to see the Headmaster struggling to open the bottle with his injured hand. Wordlessly Harry reached out for the bottle. Taking it from Dumbledore he opened the crystal bottle with ease and silently decanted the contents into the Pensieve.

'Thank you Harry,' Dumbledore murmured, rubbing his right hand with a slightly pained expression.

'Whose memory is this?' Harry asked quietly, in an attempt to distract Dumbledore from his cursed hand.

Dumbledore seemed grateful for the distraction and stood, walking around the desk to stand beside Harry.

'This memory belongs to Bob Ogden, an employee of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He died some time ago,' Dumbledore continued, heading off Harry's question, 'but not before I had tracked him down and persuaded him to confide these recollections to me. We are about to accompany him on a visit he made in the course of his duties. If you will stand, Harry...'

Harry stood hastily, positioning himself beside Dumbledore. At the Headmaster's nod, he leant forward and taking a deep breath plunged head first into the silvery substance.

XXXX

'What happened to the girl in the cottage?' Harry asked the moment he resurfaced from the Pensieve. 'Merope or whatever her name was?'

'Oh, she survived,' said Dumbledore, reseating himself behind his desk and indicating that Harry should sit down too. 'Ogden Apparated back to the Ministry and returned with reinforcements within fifteen minutes. Morfin and his father attempted to fight, but both were overpowered, removed from the cottage and subsequently convicted by the Wizengamot. Morfin, who already had a record of Muggle attacks, was sentenced to three years in Azkaban. Marvolo, who had injured several Ministry employees in addition to Ogden, received six months.'

'Marvolo?' Harry repeated wonderingly.

Dumbledore smiled at Harry from across his desk and watched approvingly as Harry made the connection.

'That man was Voldemort's _grandfather_?' he asked incredulously, although he was certain he'd made the correct assumption.

Dumbledore nodded once again.

'Marvolo, his son Morfin and his daughter Merope –'

'Wait, then she – Merope – was Voldemort's _mother_?' Harry interrupted hastily, making the leap of logic with ease.

'Indeed,' Dumbledore acknowledged. 'And it just so happens that we also had a glimpse of Voldemort's father. I wonder whether –'

'The Muggle Morfin attacked? The man on the horse?' Harry interrupted once again.

Dumbledore seemingly bemused by Harry's eagerness simply nodded.

'But, they were insane,' Harry continued on, as he puzzled through the mystery of the family. Now that he knew the occupants of the memory were Voldemort's family he was determined to work out why Dumbledore thought it important for him to have seen the memory. There had to be something about the family that he needed to know. 'Her family, I mean,' he added quickly. 'And her father was definitely a Pureblood fanatic; I can't see him being too happy about Merope marrying that Muggle. Besides, I got the impression Tom Riddle senior wouldn't have been making house calls anytime soon,' he finished disbelievingly, unable to imagine two people less likely to fall in love.

'Right again, Harry,' Dumbledore interjected. 'Morfin, Marvolo and Merope were the last of the Gaunts, a very ancient wizarding family noted for a vein of instability and violence that flourished through the generations due to their habit of marrying their own cousins. Merope Gaunt did indeed cherish a secret, burning passion for Tom Riddle senior – one which resulted in the birth of Lord Voldemort. However, I think you are forgetting that Merope was a witch. With the removal of her father's influence I am sure she was able to give full rein to her abilities and to plot her escape from the desperate life she had led for eighteen years.

'Can you not think of any measure Merope could have taken to make Tom Riddle forget his Muggle companion, and fall in love with her instead?' asked Dumbledore, after a moment's pause.

'The Imperius Curse?' Harry suggested darkly.

'An admirable suggestion,' continued Dumbledore, 'but I think it much more likely that Merope would have used a love potion. I am sure it would have seemed more romantic to her and I do not think it would have been very difficult, some hot day, when Riddle was riding alone, to persuade him to take a drink of water. In any case, within a few months of the scene we have just witnessed, the village of Little Hangleton enjoyed a tremendous scandal. You can imagine the gossip it caused when the squire's son ran off with the tramp's daughter Merope.'

'Why _were_ they so poor?' Harry interjected. 'And is Little Hangleton a wizarding village? I thought Purebloods tended to live in Wizarding communities. It just seems strange that someone like Marvolo would live so close to Muggles.'

'Lack of sense,' Dumbledore explained patiently, 'coupled with a great liking for grandeur meant that the family gold was squandered several generations before Marvolo was born. He, as you saw, was left in squalor and poverty, with a very nasty temper, a fantastic amount of arrogance and pride, and a couple of family heirlooms that he treasured just as much as his son, and rather more than his daughter. As to Little Hangleton, I believe it developed as a Muggle village on the outskirts of what was once the Gaunt Estate. With the decline of the family the number of wizarding families in the area decreased whilst the village of Little Hangleton flourished. By the time Marvolo Gaunt was born, the Gaunts were the only wizards within a 50mile radius of Little Hangleton.'

'What happened between Merope and Tom Riddle senior?' Harry asked, after a moment's thought. 'Wasn't Voldemort brought up in an orphanage?'

'Yes,' Dumbledore began gravely. 'We must do a certain amount of guessing here, although I do not think it is difficult to deduce what happened. You see, within a few months of their runaway marriage, Tom Riddle reappeared at the manor house in Little Hangleton without his wife. The rumour flew around the neighbourhood that he was talking of being "hoodwinked" and "taken in". What he meant, I am sure, is that he had been under an enchantment that had now lifted, though I daresay he did not dare use those precise words for fear of being thought insane. When they heard what he was saying, however, the villagers guessed that Merope had lied to Tom Riddle, pretending that she was going to have his baby, and that he had married her for this reason.'

'But she _did_ have his baby.'

'Yes, but not until a year after they were married. Tom Riddle left her while she was still pregnant.'

'What went wrong?' asked Harry. 'Why did the love potion stop working?'

'Again, this is guesswork,' said Dumbledore, 'but I believe that Merope, who was deeply in love with her husband, could not bear to continue enslaving him by magical means. I believe that she made the choice to stop giving him the potion. Perhaps, besotted as she was, she had convinced herself that he would by now have fallen in love with her in return. Perhaps she thought he would stay for the baby's sake. If so, she was wrong on both counts. He left her, never saw her again, and never troubled to discover what became of his son.'

Sunlight was pouring in through the office window now as midday approached. The light had crept across the carpet so that it was warming Harry's back as he sat mulling over what Dumbledore had told him. Something on Dumbledore's desk glinted in the light, catching Harry's attention. He let out a startled gasp as he recognised the object.

'Sir,' he exclaimed, 'it's the ring – the one Marvolo was wearing – the one that...'

Harry trailed off as his eyes moved towards Dumbledore's cursed hand. Harry's thoughts raced as he recalled what he had seen last night. The ring that now lay benignly on Dumbledore's desk was the same one responsible for the deadly curse that had infected the Headmaster.

'Is it still cursed?' Harry asked sadly.

'No,' Dumbledore said simply, picking up the ring and passing it across the table to Harry.

Harry grimaced as he took the ring, before pulling it closer to inspect the surface of the stone. The stone was split down the middle but what caught Harry's attention were the strange markings on the ring. Looking closer he was able to interpret the scratches. There was a circle with a line through it, encompassed by a triangle. Harry frowned, as he recalled what Marvolo had said as he'd brandished the ring in front of Bob Ogden, claiming it to be the Peverell coat of arms.

'Who were the Peverell's?' Harry asked.

Dumbledore shifted uncomfortably at the question.

'They were a very old wizarding family,' he answered tightly. 'One of the first to become extinct in the male line.'

The abrupt reply made it clear that Dumbledore had nothing further to add about the Peverell family.

'Why did you use the Sword of Gryffindor to break the stone, sir, if it didn't break the curse?' Harry asked instead.

'Ah, so you heard that last night, did you?' Dumbledore replied, although he did not sound reproachful, in fact he was smiling slightly.

Harry felt his cheeks redden though as he was reminded of his eavesdropping.

'I did not intend to use the Sword to break the curse.'

Harry opened his mouth to speak but Dumbledore raised his blackened hand and continued.

'You will understand why soon enough Harry. Now, if you are ready there are several other memories I wish to show you before the day is out.'

Harry nodded his acceptance, reluctantly handing back the ring.

'Can I ask one more question sir?'

'You may,' the Headmaster allowed.

'Why did you put the ring on?' Harry asked.

Dumbledore froze at Harry's question. Capitalising on the silence, Harry continued – puzzled as he was by the ring, now that he knew some of its history.

'You said you were 'sorely tempted' but why would you need to put it on? Does the ring do something?'

Harry broke off as a shadow crossed the Headmaster's face at his words. For a long time Dumbledore said nothing and Harry thought that perhaps he had gone too far. Eventually though the Headmaster answered him.

'I am sorry Harry, but I cannot answer that question,' he replied gravely, suddenly sounding his many years. 'It is something that you must work discover on your own. All I can say is that the stone will not aid you against Voldemort.'

The Headmaster held Harry's gaze until he nodded his acceptance of the man's terms.

'I'm sorry,' he apologised awkwardly.

Dumbledore smiled slightly, shaking off the shadow that had crept across his features at the mention of the stone.

'You should never apologise for asking questions,' Dumbledore said lightly, sounding like his normal self once more, as he stood and moved to stand once more beside Harry.

Harry looked over at the Headmaster and watched as the man touched his wand to his temple and with a look of immense concentration pulled it away from himself and towards the Pensieve. Harry watched in awe as the fine gossamer silvery strand broke away from Dumbledore's temple, remaining attached to the man's wand. With a flick of his wrist Dumbledore deposited the memory into his Pensieve, where it began to swirl.

'Abandoned by Tom Riddle, Merope was left alone and pregnant in London,' said Dumbledore.

'How do you know she was there, sir?'

'Because of the evidence of one Caractacus Burke,' explained Dumbledore. 'Co-founder of 'Borgin and Burkes'.'

Harry recognised the name of the shop he had once flooed to by accident.

Reaching forward Dumbledore tapped his wand against the Pensieve and Harry watched as a revolving little old man emerged from its depths.

_'Yes, we acquired it in curious circumstances. It was brought in by a young witch just before Christmas, oh, may years ago now. She said she needed the gold badly, well, that much was obvious. Covered in rags and pretty far along...going to have a baby, see. She said the locket had been Slytherin's. Well, we hear that sort of story all the time, "Oh, this was Merlin's, this was, his favourite teapot," but when I looked at it, it had his mark all right, and a few simple spells were enough to tell me the truth. Of course, that made it near enough priceless. She didn't seem to have any idea how much it was worth. Happy to get ten Galleons for it. Best bargain we ever made!'_

Dumbledore gave the Pensieve an extra-vigorous shake and Caractacus Burke descended back into the swirling mass of memory whence he had come.

'He only gave her ten Galleons?' said Harry indignantly.

'Caractacus Burke was not famed for his generosity,' said Dumbledore. 'So we know that, near the end of her pregnancy, Merope was alone in London and in desperate need of gold, desperate enough to sell her one and only valuable possession, the locket that was one of Marvolo's treasured family heirlooms.'

'But she could do magic!' said Harry impatiently. 'She could have got food and everything for herself by magic, couldn't she?'

'Ah,' said Dumbledore, 'perhaps she could. But it is my belief – I am guessing again, but I am sure I am right – that when her husband abandoned her, Merope stopped using magic. I do not think that she wanted to be a witch any longer. Of course, it is also possible that her unrequited love and the attendant despair sapped her of her powers; that can happen. In any case, as you are about to see, Merope refused to raise her wand even to save her own life.'

'She wouldn't even stay alive for her son?'

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows.

'Could you possibly be feeling sorry for Lord Voldemort?'

'No,' said Harry quickly, 'but she had a choice, didn't she, not like my mother –'

'Your mother had a choice, too,' said Dumbledore gently. 'Yes, Merope Riddle chose death in spite of a son who needed her, but do not judge her too harshly, Harry. She was greatly weakened by long suffering and she never had your mother's courage. And now, if you will stand ...'

Harry obliged and leaning forward, dove into Dumbledore's memory.

XXXX

Harry's thoughts were buzzing as he returned to the solid ground of Dumbledore's office. He seated himself in his chair once again and waited expectantly for Dumbledore to speak.

'Well Harry,' said Dumbledore as he re-seated himself, 'what can you tell me about Tom Riddle?'

Harry leant forward eagerly in his chair having anticipated the question.

'He believed you straight away when you told him he was a wizard,' he began thoughtfully. 'I didn't believe Hagrid at first, when he told me.'

'Yes, Riddle was perfectly ready to believe that he was – to use his word – "special",' said Dumbledore. 'What else did you notice?'

'He didn't want your help to find Diagon Alley,' continued Harry, frowning slightly as he thought about the memory more. 'He didn't seem to have any friends either. The lady...Mrs Cole...she seemed to be scared of him. And I'm not sure sir, but was he trying to use Legilimency on you?'

'Yes, he was,' Dumbledore answered grimly. 'Even at that young age his powers were surprisingly well-developed. Most interestingly and ominously of all, he had already discovered that he had some measure of control over them, and begun to use them consciously. As you observed, even the adults were wary of him. He was already using magic against other people, to frighten, to punish, to control. The little stories of the strangled rabbit and the young boy and girl he lured into a cave were most suggestive..._I can make them hurt if I want to_...'

'And he was a Parselmouth,' interjected Harry.

'Yes, indeed; a rare ability and one supposedly connected with the Dark Arts, although, as we know, there are Parselmouths among the great and the good too. In fact, his ability to speak to serpents did not make me nearly as uneasy as his obvious instincts for cruelty, secrecy and domination. Tell me Harry, did you notice how he reacted when I mentioned that another shared his first name, "Tom"?'

'Yeah,' replied Harry, 'he hated it. The Riddle I met in the Chamber of Secrets was the same; he despised the name because it was his father's – a foul, common Muggle, in his opinion. He said his friends called him 'Lord Voldemort'. Even at school.'

'Yes, Tom was quick to shed the name and any ties to his Muggle heritage. It is interesting though that you speak of friends, Harry,' Dumbledore observed. 'You will hear many of Tom's Death Eaters claiming that they are in his confidence, that they alone are close to him, even understand him. They are deluded. Lord Voldemort has never had a friend, nor do I believe that he has ever wanted one.'

The pair lapsed into silence again as Harry once more considered the scene he had just witnessed in Dumbledore's Pensieve.

'Sir,' Harry began, breaking the silence, 'do you know if Riddle returned the mouth-organ and the other objects he'd stolen?'

'Yes, he did,' answered Dumbledore. 'I believe he was sufficiently alarmed by my display of magic that he did not dare disobey me. I am glad you noticed that Harry, for it will become quite important soon enough.'

'What, the mouth organ?' Harry asked, perplexed. 'Is it like the ring?'

For the past few minutes Harry had been mulling over the possibility that in each memory there was something like the ring which Dumbledore wanted Harry to identify. He was certain there was a reason Dumbledore had gone to find the ring...it had to be important.

Dumbledore beamed at him, peering over the top of his half-moon spectacles.

'An admirable deduction Harry, but the mouth-organ was only ever a mouth-organ. No,' Dumbledore continued good-naturedly, 'I wished to draw your attention to Tom's tendency to collect trophies. It is important that you understand the boy Tom Riddle was, as he is the basis of the man Lord Voldemort is.'

Dumbledore's cryptic words made no sense to Harry but he nodded nonetheless, trusting that eventually he would understand. He was about to ask another question when his stomach rumbled loudly. Harry's face heated up in embarrassment but Dumbledore waved away his apology.

'No matter Harry,' he said amusedly, 'it is, after all, lunchtime. Perhaps we should adjourn for now and reconvene after dinner this evening.'

'Of course, sir,' Harry agreed readily.

He was eager to learn more about Voldemort's history now that Dumbledore had alluded to its importance. He was about to get up to leave when a thought occurred to him.

'Sir, can I tell Professor Snape what we've been talking about?'

Dumbledore was silent for a moment before he answered.

'For his own safety,' Dumbledore began seriously, 'I would ask that you do not discuss the information I have given you, Harry, at any time with Severus, whilst he remains in the employ of Lord Voldemort. However, I think Mr Weasley and Miss Granger have proved themselves trustworthy. Yes, I believe it would be wise of you to confide in them.'

'But, I haven't even told them about the prophecy!' Harry objected.

'Am I correct in saying that you have not told anybody that you know what the prophecy said?'

'Yes,' said Harry. 'Oh, well I did say something to Professor Snape...but I guess that doesn't really count because he'd already heard it.'

'A wise decision, on the whole,' said Dumbledore. 'Although I think you ought to relax it in favour of your friends. You do them a disservice by not confiding something this important to them.'

'I didn't want –'

'– to worry or frighten them?' said Dumbledore. 'Or perhaps, to confess that you yourself are worried and frightened? You need your friends, Harry.'

Harry nodded and then moved towards the fireplace, ready to floo back to Snape's quarters.

'What should I tell Professor Snape?' Harry asked as he was about to throw the green powder down into the flames. 'He'll ask me where I've been.'

'Oh I'm certain he will,' Dumbledore replied knowingly. 'I will deal with Severus if he becomes too persistent.'

Harry shot the Headmaster a relieved grin before stepping into the emerald flames. He didn't envy the Headmaster the job of denying information to Severus Snape. Calling out his destination he disappeared in a whirl of flames.

XXXX

Snape opened his eyes blearily to find himself in a dark room. It took him several minutes to identify the room as his own and several more to realise he was sprawled, fully-clothed, across his bed. His throat was raw, as though he had recently gotten over an infection, and he had a thumping headache. Swallowing painfully, he raised his hands to rub the sleep out of his eyes before beginning to massage his temples in an attempt to alleviate his headache. His mind seemed to be moving at a snail's pace as the events of the previous evening came back to him.

He let out a groan as he replayed the discussion he'd had with Dumbledore. At least now he understood why he felt like he'd been run over by a herd of Hippogriffs. Whatever the curse was that had been on the ring, it was an insidious little bastard he thought dryly. It had certainly taken it out of him last night and he knew from experience he'd be feeling under the weather for the next few days. With some effort he hauled himself into a sitting position so that his legs were hanging over the side of the bed. As he was considering getting up he was reminded of the other outcome of the previous evening's discussions: his admission to Harry.

_That_ had been painfully awkward, he recalled. Thinking back on it now, he realised there was a lot he still needed to discuss with the boy. With that conclusion he stumbled as gracefully as possible from his bed and out into the corridor. His gaze was drawn immediately towards Harry's bedroom, where the door remained open. Approaching the room, Severus was surprised to find it empty. Frowning, he turned away from the bedroom and instead moved towards the living room. A quick glance was enough to tell him that Harry was not in his quarters.

Perhaps he really had dreamt that conversation last night, he thought morosely. Given the power of the curse, Snape began to think it highly probable that he'd imagined his confession to Harry. Besides, he'd barely seen the boy for the past few days – it stood to reason that today would be no different.

It was twenty minutes later, after a hot shower to clear his mind, that Snape spotted the neatly folded parchment on the dining table when he re-entered the kitchen. With a tap of his wand he broke the seal and scanned the parchment quickly.

_Severus,_

_The Headmaster wanted to see me. I'll be back later._

_Harry_

Snape frowned at the bizarre note before glancing across at the mantel piece clock. It was nearing midday. What in Merlin's name was Albus doing with the boy, Snape thought irritatingly. Resigned to waiting, Snape dropped wearily onto the couch, leaning back into its welcoming embrace. At least Harry's note implied he would be returning to Snape's quarters.

Snape did not have to wait long before the fireplace flared to life, emerald flames dancing merrily, as a spinning Harry was deposited in the hearth. Standing, he watched as the boy steadied himself against the edge of the fireplace as he absentmindedly dusted himself off, clearly deep in thought. Finally he stepped out of the fireplace and only then did he notice Snape. Harry had quite obviously not been expecting to meet Snape directly, evidenced by his peculiar surprised expression. He met Snape's curious gaze for a moment before guilty diverting his own. Snape cocked one eyebrow in surprise, his brow furrowing slightly at Harry's unusual reaction. Once again, he caught himself wondering just what Albus had needed to see the boy about.

Snape studied Harry quietly for a moment longer before finally clearing his throat uncomfortably, as he summoned his courage to breach the topic of the previous evening with Harry.

'We need to talk, Harry,' he said stiffly, shoving his hands deep into his trouser pockets. 'About last night,' he clarified when Harry stared at him, nonplussed.

'Oh right.'

Snape gestured towards the kitchen table and silently Harry led the way over. The boy dropped into one of the chairs and immediately began to fidget uncomfortably, tracing patterns in the woodwork. Harry's apparent reluctance only served to unnerve Severus further, causing him to dry swallow several times before he managed to break the deafening silence.

'There is something that I have been meaning to discuss with you for the past week,' Severus began, his voice cracking. 'However, there was certain information, pertaining to my past, that needed to be,' Severus broke off searching for the correct word, '_considered_ before we discussed anything else.'

He had Harry's attention now and the boy was studying him with open curiosity.

'I was not aware that you knew much about my past,' he continued carefully, his gaze fixed intently upon Harry, 'but after last night, I am not so sure. You were already aware that I was the one who overheard the prophecy.'

It was not a question, merely a statement but it was enough for Harry to speak up.

'Professor Trelawney told me,' he admitted shamefacedly.

Severus was hard pressed not to show his surprise but his confusion must have been obvious as Harry seemed compelled to elaborate.

'Well...not really,' Harry continued. 'Dumbledore'd already told me that a Death Eater had overheard the prophecy, when he'd been interviewing Trelawney for her job, and then at the staff party you were acting...' Harry trailed off, seemingly unable to find a polite way to describe Severus' behaviour that night.

'In an unusual manner?' Severus offered stiffly, once again silently berating Minerva for her overzealous punishment.

'Yeah,' Harry agreed quickly, with obvious relief. 'Anyway, Trelawney wasn't too pleased with you and she happened to mention that you'd barged in on her interview and well...it wasn't too hard to put two and two together,' he finished lamely.

'You did not confront me,' Snape stated in surprise.

'No.'

'You avoided me instead?' he asked quietly, wishing to confirm the reason behind Harry's avoidant behaviour.

Harry nodded.

The pair descended into silence as Snape considered the way Harry had dealt with the information. In all honesty he was surprised the boy had not confronted him immediately.

'What was different last night?' Snape asked curiously, wondering why Harry had stopped avoiding him.

'Something Dumbledore said,' Harry mumbled, seeming to understand exactly what Snape was asking.

Snape waited a moment longer but realised he would get no other answer. He wondered what Dumbledore had said but he dismissed the thought almost immediately. It didn't matter now.

'I am sorry I did not tell you sooner,' Snape said sincerely.

'It's fine,' Harry said immediately, offering Snape a small smile. 'I wish you'd never heard the prophecy but I don't blame you for my parent's death...or any of this,' he said, gesturing around the room at large, as though it represented all of the destruction descended from the prophecy. 'Voldemort's the one to blame,' Harry stated adamantly. 'You just made a mistake.'

'It wasn't a mistake, Harry,' Snape said gently, shaking his head sadly at the young man across from him. 'Do not imagine for one minute that I was ignorant of what I was doing or that I was coerced into joining the Death Eaters. I _chose_ that path, Harry. I _wanted_ to be a Death Eater. As much as I regret that now, it does not change what has already occurred.'

There was a stubborn glint in Harry's eye now, one that Snape was intimately acquainted with. He had not seen it for many years now but he knew it meant the boy was about to tell him just how wrong he was. In fact, the look was so similar to that of Lily's that Snape laughed. It was not a happy laugh; rather it was the laugh of a man who has forgotten an item of dire importance, only to realise it had been with him all along.

The stubborn glint disappeared from Harry's eyes, to be replaced by one of surprise and confusion as Snape's laughter died away.

'My apologies,' Snape offered calmly, 'your expression reminded me of your mother. She used to get that same stubborn glint in her eye before she would tell me just how wrong I was.'

He paused, smiling wistfully at Harry.

'I don't want you to tell me how wrong I am Harry,' he continued gently. 'Not yet, at least,' he added hastily when Harry looked like he was about to protest. 'I would ask that you listen instead. There is a decision you need to make and I cannot, in good faith, let you make that decision without all of the facts.'

'What do I have to decide?' Harry asked warily, frowning slightly.

'I will get to that eventually,' Snape assured gravely, 'once you have heard everything. But first, you need to know why I joined the Death Eaters.'

XXXX

**A/N:** My apologies for the long wait between updates. I decided to finish this chapter at an earlier spot than I had originally planned as it seemed a good place to finish and I wanted to give you guys something to read! Having said that, I hope that the next chapter will follow swiftly - although no guarantees. I'm quite busy at present so it's hard to find time to write. I'd love to hear your views about the chapter and I'd also like to thank the numerous people who reviewed regularly (even though I hadn't updated). It was definitely motivating to get reviews continually. I'd just like to add that if you would like me to reply to a review, please login so that I can send you a PM :) Having said that, I will get round to replying to everyone asap. One final note...some of the Dumbledore/Harry interaction will sound familiar - it's either directly from or paraphrased from the book. I hope this is alright. Also I'm not going to spend time typing out the memory scenes - please look it up in the book if you are not sure about what happened. Thank you for sticking with this story :) Until next time!


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5 _27th June, 1996_

Harry watched quietly from across the table as Snape took a moment to collect himself. He'd had to bite down on his tongue several times now to stop himself blurting out some of the numerous questions that had arisen from Snape's cryptic words. Severus had been studying him so seriously though that Harry had decided he would do his best not to interrupt now. He would simply let Snape talk. Finally, Snape looked up and met Harry's gaze. He offered Harry one final weak smile before launching into his explanation.

'As a child,' he began tonelessly, 'I had always been interested in the Dark Arts. Even before I arrived at Hogwarts my appetite had already been whet. I had access to many of my mother's old textbooks and being the introverted child that I was, I devoured them avidly. My mother was descended from an old Pureblood family, you see – the Princes, although she had little contact with them once she married my father. It was not uncommon though for the old Pureblood families to teach their children the Dark Arts. My mother was taught by her parents and I...well I taught myself from her discarded books. So you see, by the time I arrived at Hogwarts I knew far more about the Dark Arts than most seventh years.

'A few years before I arrived at Hogwarts though, I met your mother. I would watch her playing in the park near Spinner's End – the same one you once spent a wet afternoon in,' Snape added glancing up to meet Harry's curious gaze.

If he were honest, Harry remembered little of the park but he could tell the place meant something to Snape. The man had obviously spent many happy hours there with Harry's mother.

'I knew the moment I saw her that she was a witch,' he said simply, pausing for a moment.

He studied Harry intently, a fierce light burning in the dark eyes.

'You cannot understand how much that realisation meant to me,' he finally continued, the dullness gone, replaced instead with an intense longing. 'I had rarely interacted with children my own age. I did not see the point. It was not that I particularly disliked Muggles at the time; rather I was a child of the working class and quite obviously unkempt. Very few children attempted to befriend me and I did not attempt to keep the friendships. I saw no point when I was a wizard. After all,' he continued darkly, 'I knew only too well how incompatible Muggles and wizards were.'

Snape broke off once more. It was obviously taking a lot out of him to be so open and honest with Harry. The man's sincerity only served to increase Harry's own uneasiness though, as he wondered once again about the unknown decision he needed to make.

'However,' Snape continued, 'your mother was different. She was a witch and for once I had met someone who was my equal. She alone would understand me, I was certain – for she was destined to share the same world as I. And when your mother befriended me I was the happiest I had ever been.'

Harry smiled at the calmness that had come over Snape as he spoke of Lily. He was like a different man when he spoke of Lily Evans. Not for the first time, Harry considered that perhaps their relationship had been more than friendship...at least on Snape's side.

'Lily was so very eager to learn about the Wizarding world,' Snape explained. 'I told her everything I knew of the world, although I had never entered it myself. She once asked me if it made a difference that she was Muggle-born. I told her it didn't – not to me at least. But I knew I was lying.'

Snape broke off, once more fixing his piercing gaze on Harry – willing him to understand.

'Although I had never been privy to discussions on blood purity,' he continued, 'many of the old textbooks I'd read theorised openly about Muggle impurity. I never met my maternal grandparents but as a child I once came across several letters from my grandmother. I learnt then that my mother had been disowned for disgracing the family by marrying my father – a Muggle. My own parent's relationship planted the first seeds of doubt in my mind – that perhaps the Purebloods were right. My father hated that I had inherited magic from my mother, and my mother hated that I was a disappointment to my father. But Lily was different and so I lied to myself and to her.

'We became fast friends and I spent most of my time before Hogwarts with her, either in the park or at her home. Your grandparents were some of the kindest people I've met. They welcomed me readily into their home without question. For the first time, I realised what it was to have a real family. I never spoke of my own family life but your grandparents knew I did not have the best of relationships with my parents. Once or twice Mr and Mrs Evans were there for me when I had no one else to turn to. I regret that I never had the opportunity to repay them.'

Snape had known his grandparents? The new information surprised Harry, although he supposed he should have realised it long ago. He had always wanted to know more about his grandparents, but Petunia had never spoken of them. When he got the chance, he'd ask Snape more about them.

'I shared everything with Lily,' Snape continued after a moment's pause, 'and we would often spend hours poring over my mother's old Potions textbooks. Eventually I summoned up my courage to show Lily one of my mother's Dark Arts books. I was certain that she would be just as eager to learn about the Dark Arts as she was to learn about Potions but I was sorely wrong. She'd barely read two pages before she'd stared at me in horror and gone home for the day. I realised my mistake almost immediately and the next day I apologised. I told her I'd never seen the book before but I don't think she was convinced. Naively I'd thought she would have shared my enthusiasm for the Dark Arts.'

Snape's tone had turned bitter, and his regret was obvious. For a moment Harry thought he had finished, but with some effort the man shook himself out of his stupor and continued.

'Finally our first year of Hogwarts arrived,' he noted impassively. 'Lily was so excited to receive her Hogwarts letter. I suspect that it was only after Professor McGonagall visited her family though that it became real for her. She'd always had this ridiculous notion that she wouldn't be accepted to Hogwarts.'

A small smile twisted Snape's lips at the memory, and Harry found himself similarly amused by his mother's actions.

'Unfortunately,' Snape deadpanned, 'Petunia came with your grandparents to farewell Lily from Kings Cross, which was unpleasant. They had a falling out right before Lily left. Petunia and I didn't get along and a few weeks beforehand I'd gone into her room whilst she was out of the house. I'd happened to notice some parchment on her desk. Having heard countless times how much Petunia despised the Wizarding world I'd wanted to see what it was. Surprisingly enough it was a letter from Professor Dumbledore.'

'What?' Harry interrupted thoughtlessly.

Snape nodded, smirking at Harry's obvious surprise.

'Indeed,' he continued, 'Petunia had written to Dumbledore, asking to be accepted to Hogwarts, which of course was impossible. Lily let slip that she'd seen the letter at the station and she and Petunia parted on bad terms. Your mother was greatly distressed by the whole thing but having no great affection for Petunia I was unable to emphasise with her. At the time I was much more excited to be attending Hogwarts.

'As luck would have it though Lily happened to choose the compartment your father and Black were occupying. It took less than ten minutes for your father and I to discover our irreconcilable differences.'

Harry shifted uncomfortably at the reminder of his father's actions towards Snape but the man himself did not seem perturbed. Instead he continued without pause.

'The sorting saw Black enter Gryffindor, despite his fears that he would be Slytherin like his family, along with your parents. I had harboured some hope that Lily would be sorted into Slytherin, but it was not to be. I learnt quickly enough though that Lily would have had no place in Slytherin.'

A shadow crossed Snape's face, and Harry realised Snape found this difficult to talk openly about.

'Blood status served as the hierarchy in Slytherin,' he admitted hollowly. 'There were no Muggle-born students. As a first year half-blood I was the lowest of the low, even among my fellow classmates. Each of my dorm mates were Purebloods. They were not pleased to be sharing their room with a half-blood but my obvious dislike towards my Muggle father was enough to keep them off my back for the first few nights. Fortunately, what I lacked for in blood purity was dismissed when it became obvious that I was one of the highest achieving students in Slytherin. My aptitude for the Dark Arts caught the attention of Lucius Malfoy and with a Malfoy's protection I became well respected within the Slytherin dorm.

'It was something I had wanted my entire life: respect,' Snape admitted bitterly, his tone jaded by self-disgust. 'To be revered for my intelligence. It wasn't simply just admiration that I craved though. I wanted to have a semblance of power over other people...to finally be the one in control.'

Snape did not look at Harry, afraid of what he would find in the boy's features. Had he looked though, he would have met a gaze of understanding.

'There was only one complication,' Snape admitted wearily. 'My friendship with Lily.'

'Despite being sorted into different houses I was unwilling to lose your mother's friendship. I was not entirely deluded by my housemates' gestures of "friendship". The Sorting Hat had made it clear to me what Slytherin stood for and I knew that the show of camaraderie was not true friendship, rather it was an arrangement. I gained status within my House whilst my dorm mates managed to pass their exams. No, my only _true_ friend was Lily.'

Snape broke off, clearly deep in thought. Harry waited patiently, his own thoughts racing at a million miles an hour as he struggled to understand the boy Snape had been. Eventually, Snape seemed to recollect himself, and with a slightly shaky voice began again.

'Our first few years at Hogwarts passed without incident. I was often ridiculed for not severing ties with Lily but it was a burden I was willing to bear. As we got older though, our friendship began to suffer. It was harder to ignore the anti-Muggle born movement of the Death Eaters. The Dark Lord was in open warfare against the Wizarding world and students began to take sides. Tempers ran high and I was often at odds with your mother. It did not help that the Marauders and I were constantly at each other's throats. Your father began to accuse me of being a Death Eater sympathiser and suddenly Lily began to question my political allegiance. It was not something I wished to discuss with her and I was constantly attempting to placate her with half-truths.

'I was lying though,' Snape admitted bluntly. 'I had decided my allegiance long ago. From the moment I entered Slytherin, I'd chosen the Dark Lord. As an eleven-year old I did not truly understand the politics but I knew that I wanted what Slytherin House stood for: unity and greatness. For the first time in my life I had found a place where I could make a name for myself. Hogwarts became my home and Slytherin my family. I spent the holidays at Spinner's End but only so that I could see Lily without the constant snide remarks of my dorm mates. By the time I was fifteen, House politics had begun to interest me. The Dark Lord offered power and control – two things I craved desperately. Blood purity meant little to me as a half-blood. It was not wizarding supremacy that I sought; rather I wanted to be in a position where I was feared. Within Slytherin I made my allegiance clear, I was interested in what the Dark Lord had to offer. Still I continued to spend time with your mother, something my dorm mates could not understand. I was under constant pressure to sever ties with her but I could not bring myself to do so. Her blood status meant nothing to me.

'Eventually I slipped up. In my anger, I used her blood status against her. There is no excuse for my behaviour that day and I regret that I ever let that foul word pass my lips. That night I sought Lily out and begged her to forgive me.'

Snape broke off suddenly.

'I was so very naive,' he admitted quietly. 'I thought my mistake had been using that word but it was not. Of course, Lily was hurt that I'd called her such a foul name, but that was not the reason our friendship ended. She could not be friends with a Death Eater...and that was what I was. I did not try to deny her accusation and that was the worst of it. That was the answer she'd been expecting.'

Snape was silent for a long time. The man was staring at the floor. He had given up meeting Harry's gaze long ago. Harry wasn't bothered though. He understood. Instead he simply waited, silent and unassuming.

'I became Snape and she became Evans,' Snape said thickly.

Snape took a moment longer to compose himself, visibly employing Occlumency to shut away his wayward thoughts. Finally he looked up, all trace of emotion gone from his features.

'With Lily out of the equation,' he continued, his voice once more toneless, 'I earned the respect of my Housemates. I had everything I'd ever wanted – the respect and the power, but I'd lost the one thing in my life that gave me happiness. At fifteen I was so certain that I had been right and Lily was wrong. I became bitter and uncaring. I was focused solely on becoming a Death Eater from then on. Lily did not understand why I needed to become a Death Eater and so I decided I would show her. When I became one of the most powerful and respected wizards in the world I was certain that she would realise her mistake. I was a fool. I did not understand what it was that I'd lost forever.

'For the remainder of our time at Hogwarts Lily and I barely spoke. I spent my time with Mulciber and Avery; she with James Potter. To me, I saw her friendship with Potter as the ultimate betrayal. I could not understand how she could choose _his_ friendship over mine...not when he'd spent five years tormenting me. I promised myself that when I became a Death Eater, one day I'd make him pay. I never did though. The few times I came across your father, when battling the Order of the Phoenix, he was with your mother... and I could not bring myself to fight Lily.

'Upon graduation I did not return to Spinner's End. Instead I moved in with Avery, whose father had gifted him a townhouse in the heart of London. I was certain that Avery had an ulterior motive for offering me the accommodation and within a fortnight it became obvious. Mulciber and Rosier were never far, despite having their own central London accommodation. It became so that I was never quite alone. One of my 'friends' would always be with me. When Lucius turned up, I realised what was happening. My dorm mates were ensuring I did not return to the Muggle world before I was introduced to the Dark Lord. They knew of my friendship with Lily Evans and feared that if I returned to Spinner's End I would attempt to befriend her once more.'

A bitter laugh escaped Snape.

'I had no interest in returning to Spinner's End though,' he stated harshly. 'I was already estranged from my parents and I was quite certain that becoming a Death Eater was the only way to regain my friendship with your mother. Lucius' plan became clear then. He was endorsing Avery, Rosier, and Mulciber's application to the Dark Lord in return for detaining me. As always Lucius wanted to be the one in control and supporting my own application to the Dark Lord gave him that. He remembered from school my talent for the Dark Arts and Potions. Lucius was certain that the Dark Lord would be impressed and so he ensured he alone would be credited by my recruitment. It seemed all he had been waiting for was the arrival of NEWT scores. I received seven Outstanding NEWTs, including the highest mark internationally for Potions. With confirmation of my abilities and certain that he would now be successful in receiving the Dark Lord's approval, Lucius arranged a meeting with the Dark Lord that evening.

'I was eager to meet the Dark Lord but Lucius' unsubtle attempts to tie himself to my success angered me. This was what I hated about blood status. I could not present myself to the Dark Lord because I was simply a half-blood. Despite my own personal achievements I required Lucius' assistance to gain an audience with the Dark Lord. I swallowed my pride and resentment though and let Lucius play his little game. I would be patient instead for I was certain that I could prove my own worth to the Dark Lord without Lucius.

'I was eighteen when I first stood before the Dark Lord. He studied me silently for so very long that I was certain I had made a mistake...that I was not worthy to be in his presence, but then he laughed. He dismissed Lucius immediately, ignoring Malfoy's affronted look before he approached me. He spoke to me for several minutes.'

'To this day,' Snape said hollowly, 'I cannot tell you precisely what he said. All I know is that I left that room knowing I'd made the right choice. I'd pledged myself to his service and I knew that he had high expectations of me. Hours later I realised he had used Legilimency against me. I had always been a natural Occlumens but that day I had been so angry and bitter towards Lucius that he'd found a way past my defences. He'd seen my doubts and my aspirations and with that knowledge he'd reassured me and gained my loyalty. This was what I had wanted though, so it did not bother me how easily he had manipulated my feelings. However, I was ashamed that I had lost control and allowed my defences to be breached so easily. From that day forward I ensured I was always the one in control...that he only ever had access to those thoughts which I wanted him to see.

'Several days later I received word from Lucius. It was the Dark Lord's wish that I gain my Mastery in Potions. With his endorsement I would be apprenticed to the most notable Potion Master's in Europe. I left England the next day.

'For the next six months I was out of contact with most of Wizarding Britain. I travelled between Norway, Poland and Bulgaria, studying under Professor Poznanski, a renowned Potioneer. Early in 1979 I moved to Germany. I wished to be closer to England, and I had learnt all that I could from Professor Poznanski. Professor Kluge took me on. He had a particular interest in modifying and improving potions, something which I was fascinated with. I had been with Kluge only a month when news from England reached me that my father had died two months ago.'

Snape paused, and Harry frowned at the sudden turn of events.

'I do not know how he died,' Snape admitted bluntly, 'and nor did I care. I felt nothing. The only intriguing aspect of the letter was that it had come from an obscure friend of my mother's, a witch who had managed to track me down. Her letter suggested that my mother was unwell and implied that I should return as soon as possible.'

Snape paused once again, clearly struggling to keep his emotions in check.

'I ignored the letter for several weeks,' he continued eventually. 'My feelings towards my mother were confusing. I could not understand why she had stayed with my father and I could not forget that she had always stood by and done nothing. I could recall a time though, when I was very young, when my mother had loved me. It was for this reason alone that I left Kluge, without explanation, and returned to France. I had to know why.'

There was a bitterness to Snape's tone now and Harry felt a sudden sense of foreboding.

'I was delayed in Germany and arrived in France late in the evening, missing the international Portkey by minutes. I spent the night in a hostel, determined to catch the first Portkey out. Now that I had decided to return home I knew there was no time to waste. The words in the letter haunted me that night and I feared that I had acted too slowly.

'Morning came, and with it Lucius Malfoy. He found me waiting for my Portkey at the French Ministry and informed me that my mother had died two days ago.'

'What?' muttered Harry, interrupting Snape once again.

Something about Malfoy's sudden appearance did not sit well with Harry. Snape however, seemed unperturbed and after a moment's hesitation he continued once more.

'Distant relatives of the Prince family had already seen to the funeral arrangements and I was told that my mother had been buried the day before. I was shocked by the news. I could not understand why I had not been informed immediately. I lost my temper at Lucius and in a moment of madness hit him across the jaw. He did not retaliate though and in anger I hit him twice more. Eventually I realised Lucius was the only person who had attempted to seek me out. My anger died away and Lucius accepted my apology. He told me he understood and that there were no hard feelings.

'We spoke for almost an hour and Lucius explained to me the circumstances surrounding my mother's death. With my father's death my mother's health had deteriorated quickly. With the removal of my Muggle father several of her old acquaintances had finally found it acceptable to seek her out once more. Realising that she was ill, her old acquaintances organised for her to be seen by a Healer. The Healer could find no physical reason for her illness. Eventually, he concluded that it was my father's death which was killing her – something which he could not treat. In that moment I realised that I had been right all along. My mother cared more for my father, even dead, than she had ever cared for me. She did not even have the strength to stay alive for me – her only son. I felt a fool for ever thinking it was otherwise.

'I knew there was now no reason for me to return to England. Lucius accompanied me back to Germany and after apologising to Professor Kluge I was accepted back. I studied with Kluge for another five months before moving to France. Under the guidance of Professor Morel I applied for my Mastery in the subject. I sat a series of exams, overseen by the International Confederation of Wizards, over a period of three months. In November 1979, I was awarded my Mastery in Potions. After almost 18months of study I had achieved something which often took applicants almost ten years to gain. Finally, I had something which no one could take away from me, something I had always wanted – recognition of my intelligence. And it was the Dark Lord who had made it all possible. With _his_ endorsement I had been given the opportunity to study under some of Europe's greatest Potioneers. I returned immediately to England, eager to repay the Dark Lord and to serve him in what ways I could.

'The first few weeks, following my return to England, I spent making some of the more simple Potions. The Dark Lord had had no competent brewer and I was called upon to supply his followers with all manner of everyday potions. When it became obvious that I was an efficient and highly proficient brewer the Dark Lord began to request more sinister potions. I never asked whom the potions I brewed were destined for, but I knew very well that all of them were capable of causing pain and that a select few had the potential to be lethal. It made no difference, I told myself. I could not be responsible for the suffering of the Dark Lord's victims.

'A few weeks later I was taken on a raid. I don't remember the details entirely but we were targeting the family of a Ministry employee who had offended the Dark Lord. We arrived at his home to find his wife and three children alone. Dolohov was leading the raid, a seasoned Death Eater if ever there was one,' Snape added bitterly. 'He started to 'interrogate' the wife on her husband's location, asking her about whatever it was the man had done wrong. Eventually he grew bored...which was when he turned to me.

'I learnt later that the whole raid had been organised to test my loyalty but nothing could have prepared me for that night. I was told that the wife was being uncooperative, and that perhaps I could find a way to refresh her memory. He selected the youngest of the children, a little girl who couldn't have been more than six.'

Harry watched impassively as Snape continued to talk. He knew without a doubt that Snape was reliving whatever had occurred that night.

'She was crying silently. One of her brothers tried to stop Dolohov taking her by grabbing him round the waist. The boy was so small Dolohov barely noticed him. When he did though, he simply picked the child up by his shirt and flung him against the wall. The force of the blow cracked the boy's skull, knocking him out. The rest of the Death Eaters found the turn of events highly amusing...but I'd never felt more sick in my life.'

Harry was horrified simply listening to Snape recount the event. The man himself had paled significantly and Harry tried not to think about what was coming. He didn't think Snape was capable of murdering...but it was hardly something he could have backed out of.

'When the laughter died down, Dolohov shoved the girl in front of me,' Snape continued flatly. 'I knew what I had to do. I'd never cast the curse in my life, but I knew you had to mean it for it to work. And so I occluded – locked myself away so deeply that the only thought I had was to cast the curse.'

Snape met Harry's horrified gaze and a flicker of understanding and hurt appeared in the older man's gaze.

'I knew the moment I cried 'Crucio' it wasn't enough,' he admitted, watching Harry knowingly, acutely aware of the relief and embarrassment in the boy's gaze. 'The child was in pain, she was screaming on the floor, but she wasn't in agony. I knew within a matter of seconds the seasoned Death Eaters would know that I hadn't meant the curse. To my absolute relief I was saved by the arrival of the Order of the Phoenix. Your father burst into the room and flung a curse straight at me. I had never been more grateful.'

Harry smiled with relief. Still, he couldn't help but feel ashamed that he'd been so sure that Snape had been going to kill the child. Deep down though, he'd known all along that Severus was incapable of murder. He just hadn't believed himself.

'The battle lasted only minutes but it was enough,' Snape continued perfunctorily. 'When we returned to the Dark Lord, Dolohov reported that I had proved myself admirably. With the other side prepared to curse you, I'd found it was much easier to raise your own wand against them. Fortunately, Dolohov had watched me use a curse of my own creation which only served to strengthen my position. I had passed the test but I'd changed. I'd found my conscience and I'd realised I could not raise my wand against innocents.'

Snape paused, gathering his thoughts.

'Aware of my 'weakness',' he continued scathingly, 'I persuaded the Dark Lord that my talents lay primarily in brewing and as a Potion's master I stood to serve him best in this way. I would occasionally be called upon to augment the Dark Lord's forces but it was only ever in battles against the Order of the Phoenix. As the weeks passed by, I convinced myself that my reaction during that first raid had been an anomaly. The little girl still haunted my dreams but I was sure I would not fail the Dark Lord again.

'Months later I was summoned by the Dark Lord. My crisis of conscience was under control and I was eager to serve. For several months the Dark Lord had been considering installing a Death Eater within Hogwarts – someone to influence the minds of the younger generation. I did not bear the Dark Mark and my absence from Britain for the past year and a half made it likely that Dumbledore was not aware of my allegiance. I was asked to apply for the Defence Against the Dark Arts position.

'Several weeks later, on a wet April evening, I made my way to Hogwarts with the intent of gaining an audience with the Headmaster. I was on the outskirts of Hogsmeade when I noticed the Headmaster approaching from the school. Curious as to what he was doing, I followed him from a distance. He entered the Hogs Head, where he met with Professor Trelawney. I had no idea Trelawney was applying for a job. Thinking that I might gain some useful information for the Dark Lord, I listened outside the door. By the time I approached the door the interview was almost complete. I'd been about to leave, when Trelawney had made the prophecy. I heard only the first two lines before Aberforth found me.

'"_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches...born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..."_

'I mumbled some excuse about being lost before leaving the pub and immediately disapparating to the Dark Lord's side.

'To this day I do not know why I went to the Dark Lord. At the time, I believe I thought only of the recognition I would receive for alerting the Dark Lord to his greatest threat. I do not think it even registered that this supposed threat had yet to be born.

'As you know I revealed all that I knew of the prophecy to the Dark Lord and in return I received the Dark Mark that night. I had never felt such pain as I did that night, when the Dark Lord touched his wand to my left forearm and branded me forever. It did not occur to me that I had just sold my life to a madman. No, the only thought I had beyond the pain, was that I had become a member of the Dark Lord's innermost circle. I had finally reached a position of power and trust.'

Snape's disgust towards himself was obvious, but he continued on quickly, as though he wanted Harry to know everything immediately.

'With the knowledge of the prophecy, the Dark Lord became obsessed with discovering the identity of the child who would have the power to defeat him. I was surprised by how determined he was to find the child. After all, you had not yet been born. At the back of my mind, I began to question just what the Dark Lord planned to do once he found you. Surely he did not think a newborn would pose a true threat to him? The more he plotted, the more uneasy I became.

'Several weeks later, a chance encounter with your mother left me reeling. I was in Gringotts, finalising my parent's will when I saw her. She didn't see me, but I was close enough to know without doubt that she was pregnant...with you. I was horrified to say the least. At the time, it did not even matter that the father was James Potter. Lily simply could not have chosen a worse time to fall pregnant. My only consolation was that I did not know how far along she was. I could only hope you would not be born in July.

'My sense of foreboding grew daily. I took to scanning the Prophet's announcements daily, hoping to Merlin that I would see your mother's name. When this proved futile, I spent more and more time in the Dark Lord's presence, hoping to gain some indication of whom he suspected the prophecy referred to. When whispers began to reach me of the Potter's my heart sank. I had not known, but whilst I had been in Europe your parent's had successfully evaded the Dark Lord three times. All I could do now was hope that you would be born in August.

'On the first of August, news reached the Dark Lord that Lily had given birth to a boy. You had arrived on July 31st...precisely as the seventh month died. For the next few weeks the Dark Lord remained unusually inactive as he considered his options. A second child...Neville Longbottom...also fit the criteria of the prophecy. I admit that I hoped fervently that he would choose the Longbottom's.'

Snape raised his gaze to Harry's once more. Conflicting emotions of disgust, horror and sorrow raged within the dark eyes. A regretful smile twisted Snape's lips before he continued.

'By now,' he admitted, 'I could no longer deceive myself. It had become abundantly clear that whichever child the Dark Lord chose...he would kill. And I knew that whatever his decision, I would be responsible. I had known that the prophecy referred to a child and in my stupidity I had taken it directly to a megalomaniac. Slowly, over a period of six months, I had finally found my conscience. I had finally realised that I did not agree with what the Dark Lord stood for. I'd learnt that power corrupted and respect was not earned through fear. I'd finally understood what Lily had known all along. That becoming a Death Eater was a mistake...that it was wrong.

'In that moment I wished I could take back the past ten years of my life. But that was impossible. No, I was simply a disenchanted Death Eater with no future. As I saw it, there were very few options left for me and all of them ended in my own premature death. It was a bleak prospect.

'I recall little of the following few weeks,' Snape admitted after a moment's hesitation, 'having spent most of that period perpetually drunk, undoubtedly hoping that some solution would leap out at me from the bottom of my Firewhiskey.

'Eventually I was summoned to the Dark Lord, and it was then that I learnt he had chosen the Potters. He planned to destroy the entire family. I was distraught by the news. It was bad enough that I would be responsible for the death of an infant but not only that; I had sentenced the only person who had ever befriended me to her death. In a split second of madness I remained after the meeting. I could not be responsible for Lily's death and so in a moment of selfishness I begged the Dark Lord to spare your mother..._just_ your mother. I will not tell you what I asked...I am ashamed even to remember it, but know that I lied to convince the Dark Lord that I desired her greatly.

'That night I did not sleep. Instead I spent the night sitting on a child's swing in the playground where I had first seen Lily. By dawn, I'd made my decision. In the space of those eight hours I'd finally found a reason to live. I'd found a solution. There was one option left that gave me a chance at life...one option where I could redeem myself.

'The next night I met with Dumbledore. I had never cared particularly for the Headmaster, but I knew he was the only one who would be willing to offer me a second chance. I told him everything. I wanted him to protect Lily...I could not let her die. He was disgusted though to learn that I had asked the Dark Lord to spare Lily, in exchange for your life. And he was right...it was not simply Lily who needed protection. As much as I despised James Potter I did not wish him dead. And then there was you; Lily's son. You were only a few months old, and yet I had already sentenced you to death. I'd wanted the chance to redeem myself, but already I had forgotten why. I asked Dumbledore to hide you all. In return...I promised him anything.

Snape paused.

'It was a small price to pay after everything I had done,' he finished quietly.

XXXX

Harry remained motionless at the table, attempting to order his thoughts. The sheer amount of information Snape had given him was overwhelming and yet he was grateful. For the first time, Harry thought that he truly understood Snape. Glancing up he saw that Snape himself seemed to be in a stupor. The man looked empty. He was simply staring at the floor, clearly miles away. In that moment Harry realised just how much it had taken out of Snape to talk about his past.

Harry knew he needed to say something. He just wasn't sure what. Taking a deep breath he plunged into the unknown.

'I don't really know where to start,' he began unsurely, startling Snape out of his reverie. 'There are a lot of 'don't knows' really...I don't know why you wanted to tell me about this, I don't know what decision you want me to make and I definitely don't know what you expect me to say now, but I do know what I want to say...so I'd like you to hear me out,' Harry finished bravely.

He paused for a moment, ensuring Snape understood that it was his turn to listen. The man still looked haunted but eventually he nodded – accepting Harry's terms.

'I understand why you became a Death Eater,' Harry said frankly, 'and I don't blame you. I know what it's like to be fifteen. Sometimes you can be so certain that you're right...when really you couldn't be more wrong. I know what it's like to have your whole House against you. In first year, I was responsible for losing Gryffindor 150points. None of my Housemates spoke to me for weeks. I'd never felt so ashamed, but in reality it was ridiculous – how much does the House Cup really matter? Sure I shouldn't have been out after curfew, but I was helping a friend and if I had my time again, I'd do it again in a heartbeat. But most of all, I know what it's like to be different. I've been the Boy-Who-Lived my entire life but that's not really me,' Harry finished quietly.

'Sometimes Severus,' he said after a moment's thought, 'stuff happens that's out of your control. You were fifteen, a half-blood and you'd spent your whole life being put down by your father. For you, joining the Death Eaters seemed like the right thing to do at the time...just like going to the Ministry three weeks ago seemed like the right thing for me to do at the time. We both made mistakes...and they both cost us dearly. I'm just glad you realised you'd made a mistake.'

Harry broke off for a moment, considering whether or not to continue. Eventually he decided Snape needed to know.

'I don't know if Dumbledore ever told you this but I owe you my life. The reason I survived Voldemort's Killing Curse was because he gave my mother the chance to step aside.'

Snape was speechless. He had no idea what to think. The Dark Lord had offered to spare Lily? The words played over and over in his mind. For one selfish second, Snape wished that Lily had taken the chance to step aside. Deep down though he knew that was not what he truly wanted. As much as he had loved Lily, he had known the moment he'd asked for her life to be spared that she would never step aside. That was the Lily he had loved – someone who would never compromise in the face of evil.

'What was it you wanted me to decide?' Harry asked.

Snape had been silent for nearly ten minutes but Harry was curious to know exactly what had precipitated this discussion. The man seemed startled by Harry's words but recollected himself quickly. Wordlessly he left the table, leaving a frowning Harry behind. He returned moments later, a thick Manilla folder clutched tightly under his arm. Snape re-seated himself, placing the folder deliberately on the table, just out of Harry's reach.

'Almost a fortnight ago,' Snape explained, his voice hoarse from its constant use over the past two hours, 'the Headmaster and I discussed several options regarding your guardianship.'

Leaning forward, Snape pushed the folder towards Harry. Sitting back, he gestured for Harry to open the folder, determined to keep his expression impassive. Tentatively Harry reached for the folder. Carefully he extracted the documents from within and slowly he began to page through them. After a moment of intense silence, Harry finally spoke although he did not look up from the page he was perusing.

'You want to become my guardian?' he asked slowly, unable to keep the incredulity from his tone.

Snape winced at the boy's tone, but he forced himself to answer neutrally.

'If you are amenable to such an arrangement,' he replied carefully.

Harry looked up from the page he'd been reading. A warm feeling had come over him as he'd read through the papers – he'd never felt so cheerful. The Dursleys would no longer have a say in his life and Snape _wanted _to become his guardian. He imagined the feeling was similar to winning the Quidditch World Cup. Smiling broadly, he answered Snape.

'Yes.'

XXXX

**A/N:** That was one crazy chapter. I think it was close to almost 5,500 words of direct dialogue from Snape so I hope you all enjoyed it. A few things which I feel need saying...I very much wanted this to be Snape's story. I deliberately wrote the dialogue with very few descriptions outside of what Snape was saying. To me, I found there was no need to constantly be describing what Harry was doing or Snape's facial expressions. There's a little bit in there but I felt no more was needed. I hope you feel the same way. I found that the dialogue itself gave enough insight into what Snape was feeling without having to have it spelt out for the reader. This is my rationale but I'd very much like to hear if you found that this didn't work. I knew it was a bit of risk writing so much dialogue but I really did find the story just flowed.

This brings me to my second point. I have no idea what Snape did between 1978 and 1981. This is my interpretation, which I feel fits with canon. I wanted to explore Snape's character in this chapter and I hope that I've managed to do so and to take you all along with me. I would very much like to know how you found this chapter. If you could leave a review (even just as a Guest) it would be fantastic.

Finally, I hurried to put this chapter out as I'm going to be busy for the next few weeks with a show and study so I won't be writing much. I didn't want to leave you all hanging and this chapter kind of came together very easily. Having said that, I apologise for any errors. I don't think there are many but if I've missed something really obvious please let me know. If you've got this far into the A/N the review box is just a step away and I really would appreciate feedback on this chapter. I can't say it enough..but getting reviews really is inspiring. So, until next time :)

Also this is completely off topic...but I'm very surprised to note that 'You've Forgotten Who I Am' is still getting a huge number of hits?


	6. Chapter 6

_Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling._

Chapter 6 _27th-28th June, 1996_

Harry was deep in thought as he ambled slowly up the stairs, back towards the Headmaster's office. Snape had been abnormally silent over their late lunch and once or twice Harry had caught the man eyeing him warily, as though he expected Harry to suddenly disappear. He'd put the behaviour down to the after-effects of the ring's curse, amplified by the stress of recounting events Harry doubted Severus had ever spoken about of his own volition before. Additionally, he was certain that Severus had been unsure of just how Harry would take his offer of guardianship. Although Harry had accepted immediately, he suspected it would be a few days before Severus wrapped his mind around his acceptance.

Stopping before the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office, Harry realised he had no idea what the password was.

'Err, Chocolate Frog?' he tried hopefully, watching the gargoyle intently.

'That's a no then,' Harry muttered when the gargoyle made no move to leap aside.

Shoving his hands into his jean pockets he rattled off a list of Wizard's sweets. "Liquorice Wands" did the trick and Harry grinned as the gargoyle glared sullenly at him before leaping aside, clearly perturbed by his guessing method to gain entry. Arriving at the top of the stairs he had just raised his hand to knock when the door swung open of its own accord.

'Good evening, Harry,' Dumbledore said as he stood up, holding the Pensieve which he had just retrieved from his cupboard.

'Good evening, sir.'

As Dumbledore strode across to his desk, placing the Pensieve gently in the middle, he fixed Harry with a curious gaze.

'You look as though you are miles away, Harry. Are you quite alright?'

Harry shrugged half-heartedly, pulling up his usual chair. Dumbledore smiled politely, resting his chin upon his folded hands, patiently awaiting his answer. Meanwhile, Harry's hand had found its way onto the table and was nervously tracing circles across the mahogany woodwork.

'Professor Snape offered to be my guardian,' he blurted out, his gaze fixed on his restless hand.

'Ah, I see,' Dumbledore said slowly, as though he were mulling over his next words with great consideration. 'I had thought, Harry,' he continued solemnly, 'that you would be pleased with the arrangement –'

Harry looked up in alarm at the Headmaster's words cutting across the man without thought.

'No, I am,' he said with conviction.

He paused momentarily, meeting Dumbledore's curious gaze. With an encouraging nod from the Headmaster he continued.

'It's just a lot to take in,' he admitted sheepishly. 'Everything he told me...it's as though he's an entirely different person. The Professor Snape I've known since first year didn't have a life – not according to me, at any rate. He was just the git Potion's Professor who lived at school year round, whose one goal in life was to torment students. Merlin,' Harry breathed out, running his hands reflexively through his hair, 'I was naive. It's as though this afternoon I finally realised he's as human as the rest of us,' he finished beseechingly, sounding almost surprised by the conclusion he had reached.

Dumbledore was smiling widely; his twinkling blue eyes alight with pride.

'I am certain Severus will prove to be an excellent role model for you, Harry.'

Harry smiled in agreement.

'If everything is, as the Muggles say, "ship-shape",' Dumbledore continued cheerfully, 'might I suggest that we continue on with where we left off?'

Harry was about to agree when a thought occurred to him.

'There was one thing, sir,' he began hesitantly. 'I got the impression...that is...'

Dumbledore watched with slight bemusement as Harry stuttered over his sentence, all the while turning a slight shade of pink in embarrassment. Finally Harry took a deep breath before blurting out what was on his mind.

'Did Professor Snape love my mother?'

Dumbledore's smile faded and Harry had the sudden feeling that he'd overstepped the mark. Dropping his gaze to his nervous fingers which lay restlessly in his lap, he missed the regret and melancholy that stole over the Headmaster's features.

'I am afraid,' Dumbledore began slowly after a moment's pause, 'that I _cannot_ answer that question, Harry. I swore long ago that I would never divulge the reasoning behind Severus' defection from the Death Eaters. Although I am certain he has told you most, if not more, of what he told me that night, I would be doing Severus a terrible disservice if I passed on unfounded information based simply upon my own feelings of why Professor Snape came to see me that night. I suggest, instead, that you ask Severus,' Dumbledore finished gently. 'He will not hide the answer from you.'

Harry nodded, a bubble of shame spreading from his chest outwards. Of course the question was for Severus alone.

'When we left off,' Dumbledore began, giving Harry an encouraging glance from over his half-moon glasses, Harry's question forgiven and forgotten easily, 'we had just encountered an eleven year old Tom Riddle. If you recall, he had refused my offer to accompany him to Diagon Alley.'

Harry nodded, remembering the cold and calculating youth who had refused the Headmaster's offer without a second thought.

'The beginning of the school year saw the arrival of a quiet boy, dressed in his second-hand robes, who was sorted into Slytherin almost the moment the Sorting Hat touched his head,' continued Dumbledore, waving his blackened hand towards the shelf over his head where the Sorting Hat sat, ancient and unmoving. 'How soon Riddle learned that the famous founder of his own House could talk to snakes, I do not know – perhaps that very evening. The knowledge can only have excited him and increased his sense of self importance.'

'Did he ever realise he was related to the Gaunts, sir?' asked Harry, recalling Marvolo Gaunt's obsessive claim that he had hailed from Slytherin's line.

Dumbledore chuckled.

'It is interesting that you should ask such a question, Harry,' he explained, reaching for a small vial resting inconspicuously upon his desk, the contents of which Harry recognised to be a memory.

'It so happens that the memory I wished to share with you next will answer your question,' continued Dumbledore, holding the vial up for Harry to see. 'I was unable to find many memories of Riddle at Hogwarts. Few who knew him then are prepared to talk about him; they are too terrified. What I know, I found out after he had left Hogwarts, after much painstaking effort, after tracing those few who could be tricked into speaking, after searching old records and questioning Muggle and wizard witnesses alike.

'Those whom I could persuade to talk told me that Riddle was obsessed with his parentage; as you can undoubtedly guess. It seems that he searched in vain for some time for some trace of Tom Riddle Senior within the Wizarding world. However, finally he was forced to accept that his father had never set foot in Hogwarts. I believe that it was then that he dropped the name Tom Riddle forever, assumed the identity of Lord Voldemort, and began his investigations into his previously despised mother's family – the woman whom, you will remember, he had thought could not be a witch if she had succumbed to the shameful human weakness of death.

'All he had to go upon was the single name "Marvolo", which he knew from those who ran the orphanage had been his mother's father's name. Finally, after painstaking research through old books of wizarding families, he discovered the existence of Slytherin's surviving line. In the summer of his sixteenth year, he left the orphanage to which he returned annually and set off to find his Gaunt relatives.'

Decanting the vial into the Pensieve, Dumbledore gave the Pensieve a vigorous shake before gesturing for Harry to stand.

'After you, Harry.'

Leaning forward, Harry plunged into the memory.

XXXX

'Is that all?' said Harry, the moment his feet touched the floor of Dumbledore's office. 'Why did it go dark, what happened?'

'Because Morfin could not remember anything from that point onwards,' said Dumbledore, gesturing Harry back into his seat. 'When he awoke next morning, he was lying on the floor, quite alone. Marvolo's ring had gone.

'Meanwhile, in the village of Little Hangleton, a maid was running along the high street, screaming that there were three bodies lying in the drawing room of the big house: Tom Riddle Senior, and his mother and father.

'The Muggle authorities were perplexed. As far as I am aware, they do not know to this day how the Riddles died, for the Avada Kedavra Curse does not usually leave any sign of damage...the exception sits before me,' Dumbledore added, with a nod to Harry's scar. 'The Ministry, on the other hand, knew at once that this was a wizard's murder. They also knew that a convicted Muggle-hater lived across the valley from the Riddle house, a Muggle-hater who had already been imprisoned once for attacking one of the murdered people.

'So the Ministry called upon Morfin. They did not need to question him, to use Veritaserum or Legilimency. He admitted to the murder on the spot, giving details only the murderer could know. He was proud, he said, to have killed the Muggles, had been awaiting his chance all these years. He handed over his wand, which was proved at once to have been used to kill the Riddles. And he permitted himself to be led off to Azkaban without a fight. All that disturbed him was the fact that his father's ring had disappeared. "He'll kill me for losing it," he told his captors, over and over again. "He'll kill me for losing his ring." And that, apparently, was all he ever said again. He lived out the remainder of his life in Azkaban, lamenting the loss of Marvolo's last heirloom, and is buried beside the prison alongside the other poor souls who have expired within its walls.'

'So, Voldemort stole Morfin's wand and used it?' said Harry, sitting up straight.

'That's right,' answered Dumbledore. 'We have no memories to show us this, but I think we can be fairly sure what happened. Voldemort Stupefied his uncle, took his wand, and proceeded across the valley to "the big house over the way". There he murdered the Muggle man who had abandoned his witch mother, and, for good measure, his Muggle grandparents, thus obliterating the last of the unworthy Riddle line and revenging himself upon the father who had never wanted him. Then he returned to the Gaunt hovel, performed the complex bit of magic that would implant a false memory in his uncle's mind, laid Morfin's wand beside its unconscious owner, pocketed the ancient ring he wore and departed.'

'And Morfin never realised he hadn't done it?'

'Never,' said Dumbledore. 'He gave, as I say, a full and boastful confession.'

'But he had this real memory in him all the time!'

'Yes, but it took a great deal of skilled Legilimency to coax it out of him,' said Dumbledore, 'and why should anybody delve further into Morfin's mind when he had already confessed to the crime? However, I was able to secure a visit to Morfin in the last weeks of his life, by which time I was attempting to discover as much as I could about Voldemort's past. I extracted this memory with difficulty. When I saw what it contained, I attempted to use it to secure Morfin's release from Azkaban. Before the Ministry reached their decision, however, Morfin had died.'

'But how come the Ministry didn't realise that Voldemort had done all that to Morfin?' Harry asked angrily. 'He was under age at the time, wasn't he? I thought they could detect under-age magic!'

'You are quite right – they can detect magic, but not the perpetrator: can you not think of a time, recently, where _you_ have performed magic without being detected?'

Harry stared at Dumbledore for a moment, and then it clicked.

'So _that's_ how...' he marvelled, grinning slightly. 'When I got back to Hogwarts I couldn't work out how I'd managed to perform magic the whole time I'd been away without alerting the Ministry. So if you're under age and you do magic inside an adult witch or wizard's house, the Ministry won't know?'

'Yes, they will certainly be unable to tell who performed the magic,' said Dumbledore, smiling slightly. 'Although the amount of protection Severus has upon his own home does make it nearly impossible for the Ministry to locate him normally.'

'I don't doubt that,' Harry replied dryly, smiling appreciatively.

A comfortable silence descended on the pair and Harry watched with slight interest as Dumbledore fiddled indecisively with three small vials he had withdrawn from his pocket. Each contained a memory. Curiously the memory contained in the smallest vial seemed to be less vibrant than the other two, seeming duller in colour and moving at a sluggish pace. Eventually the Headmaster looked up to meet Harry's curious gaze.

'Alas, time makes fools of us all Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'It is late and I had hoped to examine these memories as well. However, they shall keep until tomorrow and perhaps it is for the best, for this vial,' Dumbledore gestured towards the smallest of the vials, 'contains the single most important memory I have gathered to date.'

XXXX

Stepping out of the fireplace, Harry smiled fondly at the sight that greeted him. Sprawled half-heartedly across the couch, head propped up by his own hand, lay a slumbering Severus. A book lay tented on the ground where it had clearly fallen from nerveless fingers as unconsciousness had overtaken the overwrought Potion's Master. Snape had obviously attempted to wait up for Harry, but it seemed the effect of the ring's curse was still wreaking havoc with his circadian rhythms. Picking up the thick volume, the title illegible to Harry given that it was written in Ancient Runes, he placed it carefully on the kitchen table before glancing back at Snape.

Asleep, Severus' facade was truly unguarded and for the first time Harry noticed how young his Professor really was. His heart clenched slightly at the sight. He had never before appreciated the fact that his parents and Severus had been contemporaries. Professor Snape had always seemed older and sterner than Lily and James Potter could ever have been in Harry's mind. But now, with Severus sprawled out innocently before him, he could picture his own parents, as they should have been had they lived past that fateful Halloween night – the same age as the man before him.

Embarrassingly, Harry could feel the distinctive wetness of hot tears forming beneath his eyelids. Letting out a shaky breath he forced himself to derail his morbid train of thoughts, pressing his sleeve briefly to his eyes to dry the tears. He hadn't cried over the loss of his parents in years, he reflected. Ignoring the odd feeling that particular realisation brought, Harry reached over and grasped Severus' shoulder – intent on waking the man so that he could rest more comfortably in his own bed.

'Severus...'

Snape didn't stir. Bemused, Harry shook the man more roughly – normally Severus woke at the drop of a pin.

'That curse really did a number on you,' Harry commented dryly before trying again.

'Severus...Severus, wake up...you're going to be really stiff in the morning if you don't get up now.'

Snape groaned, shifting slightly on the couch but still remained asleep.

'Severus...' he called louder.

'Mmm?' Snape mumbled, finally making his way towards consciousness.

'Severus...' Harry tried unenthusiastically one final time, 'wake up Sev, c'mon.'

He hadn't realised what he'd said until Snape, still half asleep, muttered a reply.

'S'alright Lily, 'm awake.'

And it seemed he really was awake. Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, a befuddled Snape hastily pulled himself upright into a more respectable sitting position, apparently entirely unaware of what he had just mumbled in response to the name "Sev".

'You're back...' he said blearily.

Harry nodded. Snape peered intently at Harry for a moment, a slight frown forming on his brow.

'Is everything alright?' he asked awkwardly, his question taking Harry by surprise.

Shaking himself out of his stupor Harry managed a reply.

'Yeah, you were sleeping in a bad position,' he offered in explanation, although he knew that was not the question Snape had been asking. 'That's why I woke you up. You should go back to bed. You look pretty done in,' he finished lamely.

'Mmm,' Snape agreed good-humouredly, apparently content to play along with Harry for the moment, although the concerned look did not leave the man's eyes. 'I'm getting far too old for this kind of thing.'

Harry smirked appreciatively, before making his way towards the hallway and his own room – satisfied that Snape wasn't going to go back to sleep on the couch.

'You bet you are,' he agreed seriously, from the door to his room.

Snape didn't bother turning around but Harry saw him shake his head in disbelief.

'Go to bed Potter,' he said exasperatedly, but Harry could hear the humour in the man's voice.

'Night,' Harry called cheerfully as he disappeared into his bedroom at the far end of the corridor.

As he entered the room he caught sight of his small night stand though and his smile faded somewhat. Snape's positioning on the couch had temporarily distracted him but he remembered now that there was one more task he had to complete before he could sleep.

Grimly he pulled his jumper and shirt over his head leaving his singlet on, before crossing to his bed and withdrawing his t-shirt and sweats from under his pillow. Slipping into the shirt easily he kicked off his shoes and jeans before pulling his sweat pants on, glad that he'd showered earlier that evening. Sitting on the edge of his bed, he flopped backwards so that he was staring up at the ceiling. He was in no hurry to begin his task – it was depressing work and he definitely did not like the direction it was heading in.

Outside his room he could hear Snape moving around the living room. It was only when he heard the water of the shower turn on though that he finally decided to get on with his task. Sitting up he reached over and extracted several sheets of parchment from the drawer of his night stand. He put aside the small bundles labelled "_Mother_", "_Father_" and "_Grandfather_" but hesitated at the thick stack under the label "_Boy_". Flicking to the last page of this section, Harry drew a line across the page before adding a new title "_Teenager_". Satisfied, he reached out and selected the parchment labelled "_Uncle_". There was very little recorded on this sheet but the memory Dumbledore had shown him that evening had provided him with much more insight into the person Morfin Gaunt had been. Selecting a quill he set to work recording everything he could remember about the memory and his own thoughts and inferences regarding the inner workings of Tom Riddle and his family.

Harry was so immersed in his work that he didn't hear the water shut off, nor did he hear Snape's soft knock as the man stepped through the open door – checking in on Harry before making his own way to bed. Severus smirked slightly at the sight before him. Harry was sprawled out across his bed, surrounded by parchment and completely oblivious to his own presence within the boy's room. Severus stepped further into the room, before commenting dryly on his observations.

'I've never known you to be this enthusiastic about summer homework.'

Harry jerked in surprise at the sound of his voice. He spun round at an alarming pace, sending ink pot and parchment alike flying in his haste. There was a moment of stunned silence as both Harry and Snape watched the ink trail steadily spread across the bedspread, leaving a huge stain where Harry had previously been lying.

'Sorry,' Harry gasped out, jumping off the bed in his haste to avoid the ink puddle.

Snape waved away the apology watching instead as Harry hurried to salvage as much of his parchment as he could.

'I should have knocked louder,' he offered, stepping forward to pick up several of the papers which had been knocked towards him.

He wondered what they were; noticing as he picked them up that they were covered entirely in Harry's distinctive printing. Bundling the parchments together he glanced down at the first sheet of parchment, curious about what Harry had been so engrossed in writing down.

'DON'T!'

The warning was sharp and Severus looked up reflexively to find Harry staring determinedly at him, his hand extended expectantly. Snape's eyebrow rose of its own accord at the display.

'Please don't read those,' came the simple request.

The command was gone from the boy's tone but the determination still flashed in the familiar green eyes. Without looking away from Harry's gaze, Severus silently passed the parchments across the bed.

'Thank you,' Harry said quietly, the relief evident in the boy's tone.

'I take it then that this is not your summer homework.'

Harry shook his head, focussed on reorganising the parchment Snape had returned to him.

'It's a...project of sorts,' the boy continued after a moment, glancing up to meet Snape's silent gaze. 'I'm sorry I can't tell you more,' he added regretfully.

'Unfortunately,' Snape replied sullenly, 'it is not my place to question the motives of Albus Dumbledore.'

Letting out a tense breath, Severus pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to calm himself. He was still furious with Dumbledore for putting on a ring that had been so obviously cursed it might as well have been screaming "cursed object" aloud for all to hear. However, it was wrong of him to take his anger at Dumbledore out on Harry.

'My apologies, Harry,' he said wearily. 'I'm tired and presently rather angry with the Headmaster. However, it _is_ late and I am quite certain that whatever ridiculous task Albus has set you, he did not intend for you to lose sleep over it.'

'Sorry, I lost track of time.'

Nodding in understanding, Snape pulled out his wand and silently cleaned the ink from Harry's bedspread. Before the boy could object he reached over and tapped the stack of parchments, siphoning the spilled ink from the few pages it had ruined.

'Thanks,' said Harry, hopping back onto his bed and reaching over to replace the parchments in their drawer.

Snape watched for a moment longer as the teenager pulled the covers down before turning to leave.

'Good night, Harry,' he said from the doorway, pausing only to flick the lights off before sequestering his wand away and moving to his own bedroom.

XXXX

Snape looked up from the Potion's journal he had been perusing all morning as he heard the door to his quarters open. Harry was halfway across the sitting room before Snape heard the door snap shut, obviously having been flicked closed as an afterthought. Potter was pulling his well-worn book bag over his head as he made a beeline directly for his room; an absent-minded "Hey" the only acknowledgement that he'd seen Snape at all.

Dumping his book bag beside his night stand, Harry collapsed face first onto his bed with a loud groan. He had never felt more overwhelmed in his life. Even with his eyes tight shut, the word that haunted him was seared against the back of his eyelids: Horcrux.

XXXX

**A/N:** To all my readers, I apologise for the delay with this story but it was unfortunately necessary. Unforseen circumstances arose suddenly and swiftly and the past 3 months have been tense - the past few weeks particularly so. It was not the best time for me to be writing and it has only been this past week or so that I've finally found that I can put pen to paper once more. This chapter has been posted early as I realised it was unfair of me to hold this story hostage once I'd found a reasonable point to conclude the chapter. In doing so I do understand that it is shorter than normal and perhaps not the most interesting of chapters. I can only hope that it is at least up to my usual standards. I am working on the next chapter and hope to have it with you all as soon as possible. Finally, many thanks to those who have been reviewing despite the lack of updates. It certainly helped motivate me to return to the story as quickly as possible. Best wishes to all, until next time.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7 _28th June - 10th July, 1996_

How was it, Harry wondered staring at the ceiling as he lay spread-eagled on his bed, that such an innocuous word represented such evil? Before today, had someone asked him to define the word "Horcrux", never in a million years would he have considered "an object in which part of a soul has been concealed".

Rolling onto his stomach, he groped absentmindedly for a blank piece of parchment and a quill, before carefully transferring his inkwell to his bed after applying an impervious charm to the duvet. Inking his eagle quill, he let it fall against the thick parchment creating a harsh vertical line as he began to write an "H". He was about to continue when a horrifying thought struck him.

'I'm an idiot,' he breathed aloud, dropping his quill with disgust.

Dumbledore had just spent over an hour reminding him that it was imperative that the information they had discussed remained secret and already he had forgotten. Less than twenty minutes ago Harry had once again sworn he would not divulge the information to Severus, particularly anything pertaining to Horcruxes. Although he trusted Severus implicitly and knew without doubt that the man would never intentionally read his collection of parchment, he couldn't believe he'd been thoughtless enough to risk Severus' safety to chance. Recording information on Horcruxes where Snape could unintentionally come across the information was as good as selling the man out to Voldemort himself, Harry thought with revulsion. Discouraged from recording his thoughts immediately, he instead rolled onto his back. Closing his eyes he began to recall and catalogue the information Dumbledore had given him, for the first time pausing to edit his thoughts before putting quill to parchment.

XXXX

_'That white fog, what did it mean?'_

_Dumbledore re-seated himself before answering._

_'It meant,' he began gravely, as he scooped the sluggish memory out of the Pensieve and replaced it in the small glass vial from whence it had come, 'that this memory, has been tampered with.'_

_'Tampered with?' repeated Harry, his brow furrowing quizzically. 'Like Morfin's memory?'_

_'Not quite,' said Dumbledore, humouring Harry with a small smile. 'In this case the memory was altered by the owner.'_

_'The Professor?' Harry inquired, recalling the rotund man, with the thatch-like blonde hair and gingery-blonde moustache._

_Dumbledore nodded._

_'But why would he do that?'_

_'Because, I think he is ashamed of what he remembers,' Dumbledore answered sadly. 'He has tried to rework the memory to show himself in a better light, obliterating those parts which he does not wish for me to see. It is, as you will have noticed, very crudely done, and that is all to the good, for it shows that the true memory is still there beneath the alterations.'_

_'So we could still see the real memory then?'_

_'Yes,' agreed Dumbledore. 'As to how Horace will be convinced to give up the memory...' the Headmaster trailed off, gazing at Harry thoughtfully. 'Something to worry about later, I believe,' he finished thoughtfully, mostly to himself._

_'Sir,' Harry began tentatively once he was certain the Headmaster was listening. 'What are Horcruxes?'_

_His question seemed to cause the Headmaster to deflate, as though he had aged visibly before Harry's very eyes. The man that had always seemed so youthful had disappeared, replaced by a much older man who seemed world-weary. The gaze that met Harry's was so sorrowful that he almost felt as though he were intruding upon something private - a personal grief that was not for Harry to witness._

_'Alas,' Dumbledore sighed, 'we have reached an impasse of sorts.'_

_'Sir?' Harry asked; his throat suddenly bone dry, causing his voice to crack as a horrible sense of foreboding overtook him._

_'There is some knowledge within this world, which should never be known to any man,' Dumbledore said gravely after a lengthy pause. 'Half a century ago, Hogwarts housed such knowledge within the school library. Oh, the books were stored in the Restricted Section but the knowledge was still there, freely available to any student who wished to seek such answers. Only the most ambitious of students would ever find the books but I still regret that it was not until my own tenure as Headmaster that I finally removed, from the library, those few books which contained information on Horcruxes. I fear though that I acted far too late.'_

_Standing, Dumbledore crossed to a small dusty cupboard that looked as though it had been ignored for many years. With a flick of his wand he opened the door and bent to retrieve the contents of the cupboard. Straightening, he turned back to the desk where Harry remained and deposited a small stack of books. On the top was a large volume, bound in faded, black leather. Harry caught sight of the title "_Secrets of the Darkest Arts"_ and grimaced slightly, wondering why anyone had ever thought it sensible to store such a book in a school full of teenagers._

_Dumbledore was also eyeing the books gingerly as he seated himself across from Harry. His piercing blue eyes bore into Harry's own startling green, and when Dumbledore spoke he had never sounded so sincere._

_'I had hoped you would never come to know or understand Horcruxes, Harry. But once more I must ask too much of you and answer your question.'_

_He paused momentarily as though expecting Harry to interrupt. Instead Harry simply nodded determinedly: if knowing what a Horcrux was, meant defeating Voldemort then nothing would stop him from hearing that information - no matter how terrifying Dumbledore's words were._

_'A Horcrux,' Dumbledore began slowly, as though he were presenting an everyday lecture to a classroom full of students, 'is an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul.'_

_'Part of their soul?' Harry repeated weakly._

_'Indeed,' Dumbledore continued grimly. 'Normally a person's soul remains intact and whole for their lifetime. The soul can be split only by an act of true evil: murder. It is immortality in a way - as part of the soul remains on Earth, anchoring the person until such a time as their soul is completely destroyed.'_

_'And you think Voldemort made a Horcrux?'_

_'Four years ago, I received what I considered certain proof that Voldemort had split his soul.'_

_'Where?' asked Harry. 'How?'_

_'You handed it to me, Harry,' said Dumbledore. 'The diary, Riddle's diary, the one giving instructions on how to reopen the Chamber of Secrets.'_

_'But he was just a memory,' Harry stuttered in disbelief. 'He told me so himself...Tom, when he came out of the diary. He said he was a memory...preserved within a diary for fifty years...'_

_Harry trailed off suddenly, as a horrifying thought came to him._

_'Her soul...' he whispered, his mouth going dry as he remembered what else Tom Riddle had told him that night, certain that his Basilisk would finish off Harry._

_'Harry?' asked Dumbledore, sounding concerned by Harry's reaction._

_Shaking himself from his stupor, Harry brought himself back to the present, looking up to meet Dumbledore's worried gaze._

_'That night,' he continued hoarsely, 'he told me Ginny had poured her soul out into that diary and that _that_ was what he needed - her soul. He said he poured his own soul back into her,' finished Harry, feeling sick as he finally understood Riddle's meaning._

_'Miss Weasley is a remarkably resilient individual,' said Dumbledore, answering Harry's unspoken question. 'I am certain that no part of Tom Riddle's soul remains within her.'_

_'How can you be sure?' Harry asked._

_'Because,' he explained, 'one of the few substances that can destroy a Horcrux irrevocably is Basilisk venom. When you stabbed that diary with the Basilisk fang, you banished that portion of Tom Riddle's soul forever. No part of his soul, which had resided in that particular Horcrux, could have remained. For you see, the soul is tied to the object. When you destroy the object you destroy the soul.'_

_Harry nodded silently, absorbed in his own thoughts._

_'In your memory of when he came back to apply for a job,' he began thoughtfully, 'he looked different. The Tom Riddle that came out of the diary looked exactly like his father...but the one who came to your office, he was different...less human. And the other memory,' Harry added quickly. 'Mrs Smith and the House Elf, I swear his eyes flashed red at some point - right when he saw Slytherin's locket.'_

_'An excellent set of observations,' Dumbledore agreed. 'There are thought to be certain,' he paused searching for the appropriate word, '_side-effects_ to mutilation of the soul. For instance, the process is thought to be "dehumansing". There are physical signs, as I began to see with Tom over the years but there are also emotional side-effects. At some point, Tom may have had some semblance of morals but they are all but gone now. You see, the more you destroy your soul, the more easily the boundaries between right and wrong blur and the more easily the soul splits...'_

_'How many did he make?' Harry asked quietly._

_'I do not know.'_

XXXX

Harry was lying face-down on his pillows when he heard the soft tap announcing Severus' presence. Not feeling particularly inclined to move, he waited to see if Severus would stay or go. The Potion's Master was certainly indecisive, Harry concluded as several minutes dragged by in silence. Clearly Severus was unsure if he was asleep or just ignoring him. Eventually he seemed to come to a decision and Harry heard him take a few more steps into his bedroom.

'Harry?' Snape asked hesitantly.

'Mhmmm?' Harry mumbled, not bothering to look up from his pillows.

'Lunch is ready.'

''Kay.'

As much as he might want to stay put he couldn't deny that he was starving. Besides now that he'd decided to move he realised the position he'd been lying in really wasn't that comfortable for sleeping. Rolling onto his side he stumbled out of bed just in time to see Snape disappear back into the corridor. Stretching, he followed after Snape, rumpling his hair slightly in a half-hearted attempt to make it lie flat. Severus was already in the kitchen, his back to Harry as he piled several sandwiches onto a platter.

'Does the Headmaster require your presence this afternoon?' Snape asked without turning around.

Harry paused as he made to sit down, hearing the slightest hint of annoyance in the older man's tone.

'No.'

His answer seemed to satisfy Snape as he relaxed slightly. Turning around he guided the platter of sandwiches and two glasses of water over to the table.

'Why?' Harry asked, watching as Severus seated himself.

Snape ignored the question, reaching for a sandwich instead. Feeling slighted, Harry hastily piled several sandwiches onto his own plate hoping to at least satisfy his hunger if not his curiosity. He was halfway through his second sandwich when Snape broke his silence, surprising Harry by answering his question.

'I simply believe,' Snape began slowly, his gaze fixed upon his glass as he methodically rotated it clockwise at ninety degree angles, 'that you have enough to be going on with without having to worry about whatever inane task it is that the Headmaster has set you.'

'It's fine, Severus,' Harry replied hastily, uncomfortable that Severus had caught onto his earlier anxiety. 'Don't worry about it.'

'I hardly find your belief that "it's fine" reassuring,' Snape answered dryly.

'What?'

'Harry, you would tell me you were "fine" if you fell off your broom and broke both your legs and an arm.'

'I would not!'

His adamant outburst was met with a raised eyebrow, and Harry felt his cheeks burn slightly in embarrassment although he could see the amusement flickering within Snape's dark eyes.

'Ok,' he admitted, 'but this time I do mean it's fine. I was doing some research with Dumbledore but we've reached a dead-end. So I can't do anything until Professor Dumbledore works out how to...fix the problem.'

He'd almost said _until Dumbledore works out how to get the memory off the old Professor_, but had caught himself just in time.

'Please don't worry about it,' he added when Severus still looked unconvinced. 'It was my choice,' he finished softly, repeating the words Severus had spoken in the Hospital Wing before returning to Voldemort.

Snape was still obviously displeased at being left in the dark but he finally nodded, accepting Harry's explanation.

'Since we have established you have nowhere to be this afternoon, might I interest you in a game of pick-up Quidditch?'

'Seriously?'

Snape sent Harry a withering look.

'You've obviously been spending far too much time indoors.'

'Yeah,' Harry agreed earnestly. 'One sec, I'll get my broom.'

Grabbing the remaining half of his sandwich, Harry jumped up from the table and made a beeline for his room, leaving a bemused Severus behind. Kicking off his good shoes he switched his jeans, which were uncomfortable to fly in, for a pair of well-worn tracksuit pants. Crouching down he half-crawled under his bed to retrieve one of his sneakers, which had managed to separate itself from the other by a good ten feet. Straightening up, he grabbed his Firebolt from beside the door and hurried back out into the kitchen to meet Severus.

In the time it had taken him to get his broom, Snape had cleared away the table and was stood waiting for Harry by the door to his office. The man had obviously planned to take Harry out to the Quidditch pitch as he had already been wearing his casual house clothes which were comfortable enough to fly in when Harry had arrived back from the Headmaster's office. He was fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater but looked up as Harry approached. Giving him a once over, Snape smirked slightly before ushering Harry ahead of him and out into the dungeon corridor. It was only when they reached the Entrance Hall, that Severus revealed the source of his mirth.

'I highly doubt the future Mrs Potter will ever let you out in public dressed as you are now,' Snape deadpanned, not taking his eyes off the damp path as they meandered towards the Quidditch pitch.

'What?' Harry spluttered indignantly, 'I'm dressed fine!'

However, Severus' comment was enough for him to look down and it was then Harry realised just how little attention he'd paid to what he was wearing. Although he'd switched his jeans he hadn't taken off his collared button down.

'Whatever,' Harry sighed, laughing at the sight of his mismatched clothes. 'I'm too young to be thinking about marriage anyway.'

Snape glanced over at him, seemingly evaluating Harry's statement.

'Perhaps,' he replied seriously, the slight quirk of his lips the only sign of his true amusement.

Harry rolled his eyes, lengthening his stride somewhat so that he outpaced Snape. The sound of Severus' chuckle followed him – carried forward by the slight breeze. Surprised by the sound, Harry turned suddenly to face his Professor, a mischievous idea forming in his mind.

'What about you?' he asked as Snape closed the distance between them. 'Have _you_ ever thought about getting married?'

Snape considered his question for less than a second.

'No,' he said simply, not breaking stride as he outpaced Harry.

Hurrying to catch up, Harry fell into step beside Severus, struggling to keep the grin off his face.

'Yeah,' he agreed seriously. 'You're probably too old. How old are you? Fifty or something?'

Snape's pace faltered only slightly as he turned to study Harry, his eyebrow raised in scepticism. Bemused, Severus remained silent for a few paces before answering Harry's question.

'You know perfectly well how old I am,' he grumbled in good humour, clearly having found the sight of Harry's ridiculous grinning slightly overwhelming.

'No, I don't,' Harry replied immediately, the honesty in his tone causing Snape to stop completely and glance over at him in surprise. 'Well, not really,' he added sheepishly, hurrying to explain. 'You're either thirty-six or thirty-seven, but I don't know when your birthday is...'

He gave a half-hearted shrug, regretting the direction the conversation had taken. Snape stared at him for a moment longer before turning and continuing the walk to the Quidditch pitch without another word, as though nothing had been said. Harry frowned in confusion at Snape's retreating back for a second longer before starting after the man. Reaching him, they walked in silence momentarily before Snape spoke.

'January 9th, 1960,' he said quietly, so softly that Harry almost missed it. 'I'm thirty-six.'

'January 9th...' Harry repeated thoughtfully. 'You and my mum...she was three weeks younger than you.'

Snape's sure pace faltered slightly but he kept going.

'Yes, she was,' he replied wistfully.

Glancing over, Harry got the impression Snape was a million miles away. He hadn't realised Severus and Lily had been born in the same month.

'Your mother was the first person I celebrated my birthday with,' Snape murmured. 'I was so surprised the first time she gave me a present that I had no idea what to say. In fact, I think I just stood there looking rather gormless but Lily didn't seem to mind. She used to say that everyone deserved to get something for their birthday - no matter what. Even after we'd stopped talking, your mother still took the time to send me something every year on the ninth of January. There was no card, but I knew it was her.'

The words were unspoken, but Harry understood the meaning behind Severus' words. Lily had been his only friend - the only person who had ever bothered to care when his birthday was. Gazing silently at the stoic man beside him, Harry felt a terrible sadness. He knew what it was like to feel worthless but he'd never felt worthless at Hogwarts. His friends had always been there for him. He realised now, that Hogwarts had never been like that for Snape.

As though he felt Harry's gaze upon him, Severus turned slightly. The black eyes found the green and in that moment Harry knew Severus wasn't seeing him - he was seeing Lily Evans. The moment was gone in the blink of an eye although it seemed an age had passed. Sorrow still lingered behind the dark eyes but recognition shone clearly from within as Severus smiled grimly at Harry.

'The last time I received a present from Lily,' Severus continued, so quietly that only the man's steadfast gaze upon Harry assured him that Severus meant for him to hear this, 'was for my twenty-first birthday. For the first time since we had stopped talking, there was a note. She told me that she was going into hiding indefinitely and that after it was all done - the war over and the Dark Lord defeated - she asked if I would meet her.'

Snape's self-loathing was obvious as his tone turned bitter with regret, his expression tortured.

'Lily asked _me_,' he said, his tone incredulous, 'for a second chance: a chance for _her_ to apologise...because she missed our friendship. The last thing she wrote to me was "_since the birth of my son, I've realised that life is precious...friendship is precious. These are dark times, Severus, and whatever happens I do not want for us to have parted on bad terms. I want you to know that I forgave you long ago. You always were and always will be my best friend Sev."_ '

Harry stood baffled beside a silent Snape.

'The worst part,' he finished tonelessly, 'was knowing that I could never accept her forgiveness. What I had already done was unforgiveable - and always will be.'

'It will be,' Harry answered without hesitation, his tone entirely serious, 'if you cannot forgive yourself. Can't you see that? You've given up your entire life because of a mistake. At some point you have to realise that you've payed your dues. I mean, you've saved my life more times than I count. Do you really think my mother would still hold you responsible?'

Snape looked helpless, as though he truly could not bring himself to answer the question. Harry's expression softened at the sight.

'I don't remember her,' he said quietly, breaking the silence that had descended on the pair, 'but I don't think she would...and I think deep down you already know that.'

With a small smile, Harry mounted his broom and took off for the Quidditch Pitch. He knew without doubt that Severus needed a few moments alone.

XXXX

'I think it will be some time before the Wizarding world takes up Football, Harry,' Snape commented dryly.

Letting the Quaffle he had been juggling on his feet fall to the ground, Harry turned to meet the approaching Snape.

'You know about Football?' he asked incredulously, momentarily forgetting that Snape had grown up in the Muggle world.

The older man sent him a withering look, touched with obvious amusement. The solitary walk to the Pitch had obviously done him good and the lingering sadness that had been about Severus as they'd spoken of Lily had disappeared.

'I'd wager,' Snape began, striding forward and flicking the Quaffle up onto his right foot, before juggling it with obvious ease, 'that I know a fair bit more about Football than even you, Mr Potter...' he flicked the Quaffle to his left foot without breaking stride, 'as I happened to grow up in Manchester during the 60's...back when Citeh still knew a thing or two about Football.'

'"Citeh"?' Harry asked, repeating the strange pronunciation Snape had used to describe the Football team.

The Quaffle, which had been entirely under Snape's control, fell to the ground. Looking up, Harry realised his question had distracted the older man. In fact, Severus seemed to have been caught off guard by Harry's use of the word "Citeh", as though he'd forgotten he himself had just spoken it.

'Old habits die hard,' Severus mused quietly, grimacing slightly. 'Manchester City was my Football team.'

The strange accent that had coloured his words as he'd spoken fervently of his Football team was gone. Harry had never been to Manchester, but he'd had several classmates who'd moved from the area and he remembered now that all of them had spoken with the same inflection Snape had just displayed. He wondered why Severus felt the need to hide his childhood accent. After all, Professor McGonagall made no effort to hide her obvious Scottish brogue - in fact, Harry was certain she took great delight in her accent.

'Did you ever go to a match?' Harry asked, picking up the Quaffle as he followed Severus towards the broom shed.

'Once,' Snape said quietly, unlocking the broom shed. 'I was only about four or five when my father took me,' he said as he searched for one of the newer looking school brooms. 'It was before the entry fee rose and he was still enamoured with having a son.'

'What was it like?' Harry asked after a moment of uncomfortable silence as Severus continued to set aside brooms that had seen better days.

Snape turned to look at Harry, a slow smile spreading across his face as he spoke.

'A bit like a Quidditch match, I suppose, except the game's much more interesting.'

'Careful,' Harry warned with great amusement, 'some people might consider that blasphemous.'

Snape laughed.

'When things quiet down, I'll take you to a match,' he promised. 'Then you'll see what I mean.'

Harry was too astonished to express his appreciation but he could see Severus understood. Although the Weasley's had taken him to the Quidditch World Cup, Severus' offer wasn't quite the same. Harry had gone to the World Cup as Ron's friend. Severus was offering to take him to a football match, simply because Harry had expressed an interest.

'Here we go,' Snape said as he selected a broom, bringing Harry back to reality. 'Shall we?'

Smiling widely, Harry took off towards the other end of the pitch - giving Snape all the answer he needed.

XXXX

The final week of his stay at Hogwarts passed quickly for Harry. In the morning's he would help Severus in the classroom – clearing out the stock cupboards and re-stocking for the coming school year. Severus' six week sabbatical had resulted in more loose ends than usual for the Potion's Master to deal with, including countering the deficit in the Potions budget. Snape and Dumbledore had had a rather heated discussion over the whole affair, after a livid Severus had discovered Professor Whitestone had effectively bankrupted him whilst he'd been away. The Headmaster had resolved the problem with ease but Harry got the impression Severus' pride had taken a hit, given that in all fifteen years of his employment he had never once gone over his allotted budget.

In the afternoon's both Severus and Harry would make their way down to the Quidditch Pitch and play either a game of Quidditch or Football. After discovering Harry's interest in Football, Severus had purchased a proper ball from a Muggle town rather than substituting a Quaffle – which was far too heavy. The pair had spent many hours perfecting skills and playing "first to ten" matches, which often extended much further as both Harry and Severus had mile-long competitive streaks.

The Headmaster had been invisible for most of the week, something Severus seemed rather pleased about. Dumbledore had spoken to Harry briefly early in the week and had explained the situation surrounding Sirius' will. Harry had not been pleased to gain ownership of Kreacher but was relieved that the House Elf would be residing out of sight at Hogwarts. After their discussion, Dumbledore had left on Order business, informing Harry that he would meet him at Spinner's End on August 18th to take him to the Weasley's.

As the staff were required to return to Hogwarts at least two weeks in advance of the coming term, and it would be impossible for Severus to bring Harry with him, he would be spending the last two weeks of his holiday with Ron's family. Despite circumstances forcing his hand Harry was quite eager to spend time with his friends during the holidays. As it so happened Ron would be away until the first week of August anyway. Hermione was spending the holidays with her parents – since Harry was going to Spinner's End – and had invited Ron to travel with her. Judging by Ron's animated letters he was enjoying himself immensely in Greece.

Presently, Harry was haphazardly throwing clothing into his trunk having neglected packing until the last minute, despite specific instructions from Snape. An exasperated Severus had left his quarters twenty minutes earlier to finish off a "few last minute chores" and was expecting Harry in the Entrance Hall in less than ten minutes. Realising he wasn't going to get the job done, Harry pulled out his wand and with as much authority as he could muster cried "_Pack!_"

Everything except a stubborn pair of socks landed in the trunk and Harry was pleased to note his spell was marginally more successful than the one Tonks had performed the previous year. Picking up the plain grey school socks he lobbed them on top of his other clothing before squeezing the trunk shut and locking it. Satisfied, he cast a feather-light charm and grabbing his Firebolt rushed out of the Potion's Master's quarters.

It was one minute past two when Harry stepped into the Entrance Hall. For a moment he thought he'd made it on time until he realised the front doors were open, meaning Snape had to be close by. Approaching the doors he stopped abruptly when he realised there was someone waiting on the front steps of the castle – someone other than Severus. The man's back was to Harry but he was tall, with short dark hair. Bizarrely he was dressed in slacks and a sports jacket – clothing that was quintessentially Muggle in nature. Gripping his wand tightly, and ensuring he was still well within the confines of the castle, Harry challenged the stranger.

'Can I help you?'

To his surprise the man did not turn, instead he let out a laugh.

'I should hope so,' the stranger replied dryly, 'because at this rate we won't make Surrey by nightfall.'

'Severus?' Harry asked without thinking, although he knew beyond doubt that the stranger's voice belonged to the Potion's Master.

At his question Snape turned around, his eyebrow raised as he fixed Harry with a disbelieving look – as though he found the question both irrelevant and insulting at the same time.

'Given that you are sharing this castle with a grand total of two other occupants and I am not the Headmaster, logic dictates that I must indeed be Severus Snape,' he drawled, sounding thoroughly bored with the entire conversation.

Rolling his eyes, Harry picked up his abandoned trunk and crossed the distance to Snape.

'You've cut your hair,' Harry muttered petulantly. 'How was I supposed to know it was you? You don't look anything like yourself!'

'I haven't cut my hair,' Snape replied, ignoring Harry's tone, as they continued towards the school gates. 'I have simply transfigured it,' with a simple flick of his wand Severus hair shimmered before Harry's eyes, revealing its true length before returning to the shorter Muggle style, 'to meet the ridiculous demands of your aunt under. Our illustrious Headmaster ensured my compliance,' Snape finished mutinously.

'Aunt Petunia wanted you to cut your hair?' Harry asked incredulously.

'Apparently the idea of two wizards residing under her roof for a single week is much too scandalous for her,' Snape sneered. 'She sent a rather long letter to the Headmaster requesting all manner of things with regard to my stay within her house. It was decided that in most cases it would simply be easier if I acquiesced to her demands. Merlin knows I can barely stand Petunia when she's in a good mood; having her in a foul mood for an entire week seems counterproductive.'

Silently, Harry agreed with Snape. If there was one thing that bothered Petunia more than a less than spotless kitchen – it was Wizards. Having two of them in the house might just be too much, Harry thought. Not to mention Snape's personal history with Aunt Petunia. As they disapparated away from Hogwarts, Harry could only hope they would survive the week.

XXXX

**A/N:** Belated Season's Greetings to all and a Happy New Year! Just a heads up that my January/February will be very busy for uni so I may be delayed in posting. I'll continue to try my best and update as often as possible. Thanks for all the reviews, you're all wonderful! Until next time!


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